


Detained

by amythis



Category: Roseanne
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:25:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 46
Words: 68,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: David and Darlene, getting together, breaking up, getting together....





	1. Worthwhile

I first really noticed Darlene Conner in detention. Not that I wasn't aware of her before then. With that all-black wardrobe and that out-of-control hair, and that take-no-shit attitude, she was impossible to miss. And, you know, my brother was dating her sister. Until they broke up. And Lanford is a small town. So, yeah, I knew who she was. But you know, noticed. OK, I got a hard-on, sitting two rows over from her in detention. I don't think she noticed me noticing, at least she's never said anything about it, and it seems like she would've by this point. At least there was no one in the chair between us to notice me noticing her or to notice if she noticed.

She wasn't even doing anything that sexy. Well, not obviously sexy. She was writing furiously and tossing her hair out of her face impatiently. I had the feeling she wasn't doing homework. I certainly wasn't. I was drawing zombies, and suddenly I wanted to give one of the undead Darlene's wild hair. I also wanted to hold her and kiss her. But I wanted to talk to her, too, and I'm really shy with girls. And from everything I'd heard about Darlene, including from Mark, she'd probably bite my head off if I said hello. So I didn't say anything.

And then a few days later, I get a call from Mark asking me to go over to the Conners'. I thought it was weird that he was there himself, since it was during the break-up with Becky. But he said he'd make it worth my while. Stupid me, I thought, _Hey, Mark is gonna finally do something big-brotherly after fifteen years and fix me up with Darlene._ I mean, it'd probably be Becky's idea but that was OK. See, I thought Becky was really sweet, because that was the side everyone sees at school. The smart, popular girl that everyone, even teachers, likes. Well, Darlene didn't seem to like her, but then Darlene doesn't like very many people. But maybe she'd like me.

So I went over there and it turned out that Mark and Becky wanted to go out, "just to talk," and they wanted me to babysit the kid brother, D.J.

"How are you making that worth my while?"

"I can pay you," Becky said.

"You don't have to pay him. He babysits our little sisters all the time and my parents never pay him."

"No, it's OK." She looked in her purse. "Um, all I have is three dollars."

"Wow, thanks," I said.

"And you can eat anything you want," she said, handing me the money.

"Come on, let's go," Mark said.

Then the kid came downstairs. "Where are you going, Becky?"

"Out with Mark."

"Are you guys going to have sex?"

"D.J.!" Becky looked both embarrassed and angry.

"We're just gonna talk. Come on, Becky."

"Wait, you're leaving me all alone?" D.J. asked.

"No, Kevin will sit with you."

I stared at her. She didn't even know my name? Did Mark never mention me? Or did she just not care enough to learn what my name was? Well, at least she got a couple letters right.

"See you later, 'Kevin,' " Mark said and then he and Becky went out the front door.

"How much are they paying you?"

"Three dollars."

"That's not very much."

"Yeah, I know."

"Hey, do you know my sister Darlene?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Do you want to date her?"

"What, are you crazy?" Was he an eleven-year-old matchmaker?

"I just wondered because she's a freshman like you."

"I'm a sophomore."

"Oh, I didn't know. You're kind of short for a sophomore."

"Thanks."

"Also, you both have weird hair, so if you had kids, then your kids would have weird hair, too."

"You're criticizing my hair? You look like your mom cuts yours with a bowl."

He nodded. "Good one. I bet Darlene would like you."

"Yeah, maybe." Maybe this kid actually knew something.

"And then you two can have sex like Becky and Mark."

"Why don't you go upstairs and do your homework?"

"I already did it."

"Then why don't you go set something on fire?"

"OK," he said cheerfully and went back upstairs.

All right, so I'm not the world's best babysitter. Well, I'm good with my sisters but they're sweet little girls. D.J. was really annoying me. And I was making only $3.

I turned on the TV but Mrs. Conner came home soon after that. I introduced myself as Kevin just for the hell of it. I didn't care. It wasn't like I'd ever be back here again. And, yeah, I could've walked home but I did feel like somebody should be home with the kid. And, OK, maybe I was hoping Darlene would show up, which she did a minute later.

She kind of remembered having detention with me. I complimented her hair and then she complimented mine. We seemed to be hitting it off. But then her dad came in and as soon as he heard that I'm Mark's "little brother," he decided to drive me home, like he expected me to be a jerk like Mark.

But that was OK. At least I finally got to talk to Darlene. And when we had detention the next day, she smiled at me. And Darlene doesn't smile much. At that point, I didn't expect much more to happen, or if it did, it would happen slowly. Which it did and it didn't.


	2. Friendship

It wasn't until we were on the bus to Chicago that it really hit me that this was not an ordinary friendship. Sure, I'd ditched before, on my own and with friends. But I never left town. Not that we were just doing it to get out of Lanford, although that would've been reason enough. We were going because this comic convention was important to both of us, and nothing had been important to me in months.

I'd had guy friends before. Come on, I'm an ex-jock. Sometimes I'd be the only or one of the only girls playing. But David was nothing like Brian and the other guys. He's like nobody I'd ever met.

First of all, he's a really talented artist but totally modest about it. So that set him apart from the "art guys," who all have huge egos. Plus, he's twisted, not exactly like me but close enough. When I looked at what he drew in detention, it was always something off the wall, like zombies, but not normal zombies.

And I write. So teaming up to do a comic felt like a natural fit. We started passing papers back and forth in detention and even in the hallway. Not "Do you like me? Check yes or no" or any of that crap. Stuff that meant something. I'd come up with a story and he'd illustrate it, panel by panel, page by page. Sometimes I'd give him some plot, dialogue, description, all that, hand it to him at the end of the day, and then the next morning he'd hand me my ideas brought to life, or death as the case may be.

And then one day, I said to him, "Listen, we don't have detention. You wanna come over?"

"And hang out? Sure."

"Well, not just hang out."

"Oh?" He leaned forward, one arm propped against my locker, which he's a little short to pull off.

"Easy, Stud. We can work on the comic without interruptions like at school."

"Don't you have a brother and a sister? And a nosy mother?"

"Yeah, but Becky has some lame Student Council meeting. And we'll work in my room."

"Yeah?"

"Cool it, Tiger. It's just for the comic."

"OK, yeah, of course."

I didn't think David had a crush on me or anything. I'm not the kind of girl guys get crushes on, not like Becky, who does all those phony, flirty things, or did before she linked up with David's moronic brother Mark. OK, I did once have two guys fight over me at a party, but that was a weird night. And David knew we were just friends, right? I didn't want a boyfriend. I never did. It's too much work and you can't really be yourself. I wanted his friendship, that was all.

And he didn't put the moves on me or anything up in my room. Of course Mom freaked when she saw us come downstairs, so I said that since nobody was home, I decided to become a woman. I figure joking about people's worst fears is the best approach. Like I'd do it in my house! I mean, gross! I don't know that I'll ever want to do it. Maybe in college or something. I mean, I've tried cigarettes and pot and beer, so I'll probably try that someday, but no hurry. And anyway, David is probably as much of a virgin as I am, so how good could he be?

That was the day that I told my Aunt Jackie about the comic. Jackie's pretty cool, not like my mom where she thinks she's really "hip" and "with it" but she's just as lame as other parents in her own way, maybe lamer because they don't try so hard. And Jackie said she was proud of me. See, I went through this deep, dark depression when I started high school. Not that junior high wasn't hellish but I felt like it was more real. I didn't want to do anything, or care about anything, or anyone, ever again.

It would be too simple to say, "And then I met David." I was starting to get back to my normally cheerfully surly self anyway, but OK, he nudged me, just by being interested in something bigger than us. I felt like we could create something that mattered, to us and maybe to other people. I mean, I used to love basketball, but you play a game and then what do you have when it's over? When you create something, you've got the process, which I love, but you also have the product. How cool is that?

And David and I made the comic, and the comics that we've done since, together. And there is something special about collaboration, when it works. When you've got a partner that encourages you and believes in you, you can get past the moments of self-doubt and see it through. Is that too corny? OK, I like having a mutual-butt-kicking association, where we push each other.

And I know that neither of us would've had the guts to get on that bus to Chicago by ourselves. But we wanted to meet other people who do comics. I mean, graphic-novelist is an actual profession for grown-ups, who knew? Maybe we could grow up to be that, rather than my ambition of six months ago, which was to turn over on the couch every hour or so.

"Wow, this is exciting!" he shouted, looking out the bus window.

"Yeah, downtown Aurora is pretty cosmopolitan."

"I mean this whole trip."

"Yeah," I admitted quietly, "it is."

"And you're sure the school won't call our parents?"

"Yeah, they only do that if you're out for a week. And I am an excellent forger, so I'll just bring in the Big R's note about Darlene's hacking cough tomorrow."

"Cool."

Something in his tone made me say, "You want me to forge yours, too?"

"No, it's fine. But thanks."

I didn't pursue it. I know that there's something off about David's family, not just that Mark is in it. But he never wants to talk about it and I'm not gonna make him spill his guts. I mean, look how weird my family is. I don't always want to talk about them either.

When we got to the convention, there were all these tables with the professionals selling their comics and signing autographs. They ranged from completely underground to, well, _Archie_ and _Richie Rich_. Still cool though. And there were even a few people walking around in costumes. They looked ridiculous but at least they had the courage to look like asses.

OK, it sounds kind of pathetic to describe it, but at the time it felt pretty special. And David was like a little kid, going, "Oo, Darlene, look at that!" Not in an annoying D.J. way. I liked it, even though I made fun of him of course.

The convention was for two days, but we could only stay for two hours because we had to get the next bus back to Lanford. I wished we were older and could stay overnight. (Separate rooms of course.) Well, maybe someday. But we had to make it believable that we weren't getting home any later than if we'd had detention.

Little did I know that we'd both get grounded, thanks to Mark, that jerk! Well, I guess David's parents found out he went to Chicago, so they grounded him, but I might've got away with it, except that Mark told Dad, who he's working for (the one thing Old Stupid understands is anything with a motor), so then Dad mentioned it at the dinner table, and Mom immediately guessed I'd gone with David.

So then they blew up about it, like we'd eloped or something. And Jackie just stood there, not explaining that we're nothing like Becky and Mark, who, barf, have had sex, and have nothing in common. I mean, that's the complete opposite of me and David. So I got grounded, and forbidden to see David.

But I think Jackie said something to Mom and they stopped the punishment after like a day. So now David and I can see each other as much as we want, and work on the comic, as long as we don't lie or sneak around.

And I get the feeling that Mom actually likes David, which is a big deal because she hates Mark. It helps that Mark always mouths off to Mom, while David is, well, a lot wimpier. Don't get me wrong, I like that about him. I'm not into macho guys and never have been. Even the jocks I liked were never arrogant. They were nice guys like Brian.

But I didn't like David, not like that. I felt like we had something better than romance. I'd have been happy to just go on being platonic friends, best friends after awhile. OK, there were moments when I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. But I remembered the time when I got curious and made out with Brian and then everything changed. I didn't want a boyfriend. I wanted things to stay as they were.

Then one day, David and I were just hanging out, not even working on the comic much, mostly watching TV. And he put his arm around me. And I freaked out! It wasn't like he went under my shirt like Brian did. It was just on my shoulder, but he was putting the moves on me. And I just couldn't handle it.

I didn't get why he wanted to change things. Why ruin what we had? And he was talking about how everyone at school thinks we're boyfriend and girlfriend anyway. Like I care what people think! That's Becky's thing, not mine. Why go out just because people think a guy and a girl can't just be friends?

Except, I guess I kind of knew that this wasn't just about that. I kind of knew he liked me that way. Maybe he always had but he'd been too scared of me to show it. I don't know. But he crossed that line and, like Becky said later, things couldn't go back to what they were. I know, I hate asking Becky for advice, but she does know about that kind of crap.

And Dad was cool about it. He's overprotective of Becky, the princess, but he knows I can handle myself. He said I should do what I want, not what other people expect.

And, yeah, I could've asked Mom's advice. I know she was dying to give it, but I knew she'd say go out with David, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I considered talking to Jackie, too, but let's face it, she hasn't had the greatest luck with men.

Finally, I invited David over. I'd been avoiding his phone calls and notes, until I was ready to talk to him. I still didn't know what I wanted to say, but I was ready to face that uncertainty with him. I at least had to know how he would feel if I said I couldn't be his girlfriend.

And he was really cool about it. He'd had some time to think about it, too, and he said the important thing was our friendship. So I kissed him. He was surprised at first but then he really kissed back. And he's an amazing kisser! OK, I don't have a lot to compare it to, but it was like, one, it felt completely natural to kiss him, not awkward like with Brian, and two, he has this really great style, very into it, but not like being slobbered on.

So we kissed for a few minutes and then we went down to the arcade and I beat the pants off him. Figuratively of course. He didn't sulk or anything. He congratulated me. And then we kissed for a few minutes at the arcade. It was great again, but part of me knew I was going to miss the just-friendship.


	3. Breakfast in America

Darlene isn't like other girls, which is part of the attraction, and part of the frustration. Any other girl would know that boyfriends and girlfriends hold hands, including at school, and they spend a lot of time together. I mean, we hang out more than we used to when we were just friends, but not like a real couple. But she "needs her space." I'd rather be with her than with anybody else, self included, but she wants to be by herself sometimes.

And when we are together, yeah, she'll kiss, a lot. She loves it as much as I do. She's so intense, not passionate exactly, but like she has to get her mouth next to mine and, well, move it around. And it drives me crazy, a different kind of frustration. OK, almost anything turns me on, but this is my girlfriend kissing me! And I want to do more and it's like she doesn't know that there's anything after kissing. And it's not because she's innocent or anything. She's one of the most jaded people I've ever met. I mean, she comes up with some really sick stuff for our comics. Cool sick stuff, but still pretty sick. But when it comes to, well, sex, it's like it has nothing to do with her.

I mean, it's not like she's saving herself or something. Can you picture Darlene in a white wedding gown someday? Or white anything? She probably would wear black at her wedding, if she ever got married, which is hard to imagine. But anyway, I doubt she's holding off till her honeymoon. So maybe she just doesn't feel that way about me.

I know, we're only 15. Our parents would say we're way too young for sex. But Mark wasn't a virgin at 15. He didn't save himself for Becky or whoever he'll end up marrying, if any woman is ever crazy enough to marry him. And, yeah, Mark had had a lot more girlfriends by 15 than I'll probably have in a lifetime. But even if I don't have the experience, I have the urges, even more now that I'm dating Darlene.

I know, I could've just not asked her out. She probably would've been happy being platonic best friends for the rest of our lives. But I was attracted to her and I had to take that chance. And don't get me wrong, I'd rather kiss her and be frustrated than never have touched her at all. But there are people who've gone out a shorter time than we have who've done a lot more than we have.

I'd talk to her about it but I don't think it would do any good. If I had a tough time getting her to hold hands, how am I going to get her to, well, let other body parts intertwine?

It's summer now and school is out, finally. I try not to drop by too much, even though I'd much rather be at her place than home, and not just because her parents like me more than mine do. We work on our comics and we take kissing breaks, and I know, I'm happier than I was last summer. I have Darlene, even though it's by her rules. Mark says I have to be the man and not let Darlene push me around, but what does he know? I mean, yeah, I guess he and Becky love each other, but they don't have the greatest relationship. Well, better than our parents do.

This'll sound weird, but the couple I most envy is Mr. and Mrs. Conner. Not that I want to be fat or anything, but you can see how much they love each other. They don't do most of the stuff that Darlene would think is corny, like sweet talk and flowers and all that. They make fun of each other and they act goofy sometimes. But they really make each other laugh. And, OK, this may be gross but it's also, well, reassuring that they seem to, well, have a healthy sex life. Not that I know or would want to know any details! But you can tell. From things Darlene has said and my own observations of how her parents flirt.

I can't remember my parents ever looking at each other the way hers do. Yeah, they had sex enough to produce four kids, but they always act like they don't want to be in the same room with each other. I sometimes wonder if they're just staying together for the sake of me and my sisters. (Mark doesn't care. He moved out a year ago and he hardly ever visits.) I'd rather they get divorced than just go through the motions, except I don't want my mom to get custody. She's not as bad to us when he's around, or at least he distracts her by fighting with her.

Yeah, the Conners fight, but not like that. There's more love than hate in their house. And they're nice to me, because I'm polite and well-mannered. OK, I was kind of rude the first day I came over, when I babysat D.J., but since then I've tried to be nice to even him.

Anyway, I don't have any role models at home about how to be a good boyfriend. So sometimes I watch Mr. Conner, how he deals with Mrs. Conner. He lets her have her own way but he does speak up more than I do with Darlene. The thing is, I think Mr. Conner would be fine if he lost his wife. I mean, he'd mourn her but he'd survive. I have days when I feel like it would kill me if I lost Darlene.

I know from the outside she can seem like a bitch. The other day, Mark was singing this old song from one of our dad's record albums:

"Take a look at my girlfriend  
She's the only one I got  
Not much of a girlfriend  
I never seem to get a lot."

And, yeah, there are days I feel that way, but I'd rather not get laid with Darlene than be with anyone else. And I do get a lot from Darlene. She's so real and honest. And we make each other laugh, not the big belly laughs like her parents have, but quiet chuckles at the craziness of the world. And there are the comics. She spins these stories out of that brain that's as wild as her hair, and I try to visualize them as best I can. I put my own touches in and hope that she'll like them. She'll be blunt if she doesn't, but sometimes she'll exclaim, "David, this is awesome! I love how you did this part!"

Is it so wrong that I want to collaborate in bed? I mean, besides the physical side of things— which has got to be ten times as good as jerking off— it would have to be amazing to do something to her and then have her respond by doing something to me. And just like the comics, we would get better and better. I mean, our first kiss was great because it happened when I'd given up on it, but I know we're better at it than we were a few months ago. We can, like, slip our tongues in without discussing angles and stuff first. And she can bite my lower lip without drawing blood.

I know, sex is probably a lot trickier to get right than kissing. And, not to be sexist, but more depends on the guy. Sometimes I worry I'll be really bad at it, especially at first. What if she makes fun of me? Not like usual, which I know is her family's way of showing affection. But I mean something that makes me afraid to ever try again.

Yeah, maybe it's OK she's not interested in sex yet. I'm not ready for the rejection of asking her and having her say no, so I sure as hell am not ready for the rejection of her saying yes and then wishing she hadn't bothered.


	4. Dark and Light

The first time David came over after the elopement, I greeted him with, "Hey, it's my favorite in-law," just to see him make a disgusted face.

Then he shook his head and said, "We're not in-laws. Becky is my sister-in-law. Mark is your brother-in-law."

I made my own disgusted face. "I don't know which of us I feel sorrier for."

"I feel sorrier for you."

"Yeah, your in-law has a big butt. Mine is a big butthead."

"Yeah. Can I come in?"

"Sure."

He came in and we sat down on the couch, but unlike usual, we weren't in the mood to either do the comic or kiss. Especially not when I said, "Do you realize that their demon spawn will be our mutual niece or nephew?"

"Yeah. Hey, you don't think she's pregnant already, do you? I mean they did rush into marriage."

"I doubt it. She's on the Pill."

"Really?"

"Yeah, my mom paid for it."

"Really?" Now he sounded intrigued.

"Don't get ideas, Stud."

"Well, it's just, you know, your mom doesn't even like Mark and she's paying for their birth control. And she likes me."

"Yeah, but they're having sex. We're not."

"Oh, right."

"You wanna watch TV?"

"Yeah, OK."

We didn't talk anymore. We were both kind of depressed. He'd said his parents hadn't taken the news well, and mine definitely hadn't, Dad especially. The thing about Dad is that when he's mad at Becky, he's not good at showing it. He'll yell at me but he gives her the silent treatment. No wonder she thinks I'm his favorite.

And both David and I knew this elopement was stupid. I mean, Becky isn't even done with high school and I think Mark dropped out, or barely graduated anyway. Yeah, he's got a good job but what about her? OK, so she got out of Lanford, but she had to marry Old Stupid to do it.

I know she blames Dad for us being broke, I mean more than we were before. His bike shop went belly up and there's no college fund for Ms. Straight A's. There's nothing for me either, but I haven't exactly been slaving away at school.

And even though I've been spending months convincing my parents that David isn't Mark and my relationship is nothing like Becky's, there is a very real danger that they'll crack down on us again. After all, David is a Healy boy, and you know what a menace they are. Like I would be stupid enough to elope! Even to get out of Lanford. I'm still not even sure I want a boyfriend, even one as cool as David, so I definitely don't want a husband. And I'm not even sixteen yet.

David is. He's a couple months older and a grade ahead of me. I wouldn't exactly say he's more mature than I am. After all, he's a boy. But for a boy he's kinda mature. And there's a way he's more grown-up than I am, by some people's definition. But I'll get to that.

So we sat on the couch until "Joanie and Chachi" came home. She had to get her stuff and I guess she wanted to say goodbye to our parents.

When Mark said hello to his "little brother," he asked David how he was. And David said, "Fine. Except thanks to you, now I'm related to my girlfriend."

I teased both Mark and Becky, and Mom when she came in. So that was fun. I mean, I'm never too depressed to mock the family, which Mark is now part of. OK, I mocked him before he was an in-law.

When Becky was about to leave, we were sarcastic with each other, which felt good. I had missed that. It still hasn't sunk in a couple weeks later that she's not going to be around. She's been there my whole life, the light to my dark, or vice versa. And, OK, she did most of the gruntwork, like vacuuming, which I'm stuck with now. But at least now I have my own room.

Which brings me to last night. I'd invited David over to work on the comic, as usual. It wasn't my fault that my parents couldn't pay the electricity bill. Or that I was bored as shit watching them do shadow puppets with flashlights. So David and I were going to go up to my room, with a flashlight, and get a few pages done.

Well, usually Dad is cool about David, but he didn't want David in my dark bedroom. Then Mom "helped" by saying, "Mark had a sexy kind of dangerous thing going on. This is David." And Dad went back to treating David like he's harmless.

But even though David doesn't act like the reincarnation of James Dean, he's not exactly asexual. Trust me. I've wondered for awhile now if he wants to do it, and last night he made it clear that he does. One minute he called it "getting closer to me" and then the next he was calling it "messing around." Like it's this physical act that's both meaningful and meaningless.

I don't know how much has to do with me and how much has to do with him just being a horny teenage boy. After all, he's started drawing enormous breasts on all the female characters. I made him erase them. But I'm sure he was hoping to feel me up last night, and I can't let him like I did with Brian. It means more now, and not just because I have bigger tits now.

I did let him stay over. Nothing happened. We just worked on the comic, without even kissing breaks, except for one kiss goodbye before we crept downstairs. I almost managed to sneak him out the front door but Mom caught us. She refused to believe me. But instead of grounding me this time, like after the Chicago trip, she decided to be Cool Mom. She offered to get me birth control! I explained that I have no intention of having sex with David, or anyone, and if I did, I could get my own birth control.

I feel like people, not just Mom and David, don't get that I don't do things just because I'm expected to. I don't give a shit if there's some unwritten rule that I'm supposed to sleep with my boyfriend after a certain amount of time has passed. I don't feel ready and I'm not on anyone's schedule.

I like kissing and sometimes necking with David. Why can't we just enjoy that?

And, OK, I am a little scared of sex. Not the pain or pregnancy, or any of that. I remember when Becky broke up with Mark and I asked her if she regretted sleeping with him. And she said no because she loved him. What is that like if you love a guy and you sleep with him and you break up? Or what if you didn't love him? Would you regret that?

I don't love David. He's my best friend, who happens to be my horny boyfriend. And I hate to think what sex might do to our relationship.


	5. Molly

"I can't believe you're taking her side even now! Does your Molly-boner cut off the oxygen to your upper brain?"

OK, yes, I have a crush on Molly Tilden, but let me explain, since Darlene wouldn't give me a chance today. Molly is sweet and pretty and, yes, I looked at her half naked through D.J.'s telescope. But there are lots of reasons I wouldn't want to be with her, besides the obvious one that Darlene would kill me.

Number one, I really like Darlene. Yeah, the no-sex thing gets frustrating, but otherwise she makes me really happy. I've told you all that before, but it gets truer the more time that passes. I'm not in love with her, I think. I don't really know what that kind of love is, except for maybe Mr. and Mrs. Conner, and they're old. So I don't know what it would like to be young and in love. I still don't think it's being like Mark and Becky, even if they did run off and get married. I doubt they talk for hours without running out of things to say, the way Darlene and I do. But that doesn't mean we're in love. It seems like it has to be something more, even if I don't know what that is. Maybe it'll happen after we have sex, if we ever do.

And even if I didn't like Darlene as much as I do, she is my girlfriend. I'm not like my parents. I believe in fidelity and commitment. If you say you're going to be with someone, then you're with them totally, and no one else.

That doesn't mean I can't look. That I can't talk to Molly and be nice back to her. Darlene doesn't get that. And her jealousy would be flattering if she'd just admit that that's what it is, rather than her acting like she just thinks I have bad taste.

But let's say Darlene weren't in the picture. OK, I probably wouldn't run into Molly as much, just at school, since they're next-door neighbors. And I do spend a lot of time at Darlene's, and not just because I don't like being home. (The morning after the night I stayed over in the dark, trying not to kiss Darlene, trying not to listen to her parents "move furniture," I told my parents I stayed at Dave Malone's. I guess they bought it, but my mom claimed she stayed up all night worrying, which is crap, because she would've called around if she really cared. She probably wasn't even home herself.)

Anyway, Molly likes to drop by when I'm over, and I am over a lot. I suppose she would find opportunities to talk to me if she didn't have the excuse that she's trying to befriend Darlene, not an easy task of course. Or maybe Molly wouldn't find opportunities.

See, part of me knows that some of the attraction has to be that I'm "taken." Girls like Molly never noticed me when I didn't have a girlfriend. I can tell she likes the challenge of what Darlene calls "boyfriend-stealing." If she gets me, she "wins," and that Darlene is a bitch to her probably adds to the fun of that. But I know Molly would dump me as soon as she got me, and there's no way Darlene would want me back after that.

The thing is, I don't really think Molly is such a prize. I mean, if I'd never got to know Darlene, I'd be thrilled to get a girl like Molly. But she can't compete, and not because, as Darlene had to point out, "did you notice that she stuffs?" (She is flatter than Darlene but she does have a cute little figure. And even though I did give Moth Woman huge breasts, I'm not a chest man. Or not only.) Molly is cute in a way that any guy could appreciate, but Darlene is beautiful to me, partly because she doesn't look like anyone else. When she dyed her hair black for her Sweet Sixteen party, it made it seem more untamable than ever. And she has these changeable green eyes that see through everyone.

One bad thing about Molly, and I know this is going to sound crazy, is that she would probably sleep with me. I mean, it's not crazy that she would sleep with me (my self-esteem isn't that low), but it is crazy that I think that's a negative. OK, if she were my girlfriend, then, yes, I'd be happy that we'd have sex. But she's not my girlfriend and she acts like she'd do it anyway, and not just to spite Darlene. And I don't want that. I mean, I want sex, but not like that.

Darlene told me about Molly getting into the back of a parked van with a strange guy to smoke pot and probably have sex. This was after last night's Daisy Chainsaw concert. God, all I said was, "So how was the concert?" I didn't say, "I wish I could've gone" or "Was it fun hanging out with Molly?" I knew she just went because Molly had an extra ticket. But Darlene started ranting about "that skank."

So I said, "Well, you know, she doesn't have a cool mom like yours. Or any mom."

And that's when she said the thing about my "Molly-boner." OK, yes, I've had erections inspired by Molly, but I've had erections inspired by my History teacher, and she's over 60 and boring as hell.

Then Darlene said, "Just promise me that if you're ever stupid enough to cheat on me with Molly, you'll wear a condom, because if I'm ever stupid enough to have sex with you, I don't want all her diseases."

"I would never cheat on you," I said. "And in case you haven't noticed, I'm saving myself for you."

"Wow, how flattering. Is this just for the rest of the year? Or till our wedding night?"

I shrugged. "However long you're making me wait. I'll wait." I knew she was kidding about our wedding night. Like I've said before, Darlene isn't the kind of girl who gets married. Not like Becky.

Anyway, I feel like Molly just has sex for attention. She doesn't care about the guys as people. And even though I could get off that way, I'd rather it meant something to the person I was with. That it meant something to me. I'd like that person to be Darlene. I like to think that when and if we finally do it, Darlene would mean it. Unless she was doing it just to make me happy. I could live with that. Especially since she would have low expectations.


	6. Hit

Three bad things happened at Christmas: a snowstorm hit Lanford, David's mother hit him, and Cupid's arrow hit me. I know, I shouldn't joke about any of this, especially not after what happened to Aunt Jackie, but it's how I get through things.

I thought it would be a nice evening at David's. He usually doesn't have me over, saying he likes it better at my place. Now I understand why but I just thought it was the food. Anyway, I've gone over there to meet up with him when we're going somewhere, so I'd met his parents and little sisters before, but I hadn't really spent much time with them, just hello, goodbye, you know.

Both of his parents were going to be gone, so that helped. I knew he was mostly asking me over to make out but that was fine. His sisters are much less annoying than D.J. and they did spend most of the time after dinner upstairs. David cooked. He's not bad.

"You'll make someone a great wife," I teased, and his sisters giggled.

"Shut up," he muttered.

Anyway, it was easy to babysit over there, and we did get to make out some. But he had to ruin it like before. He wanted that to be "the night." And if we couldn't go all the way, he didn't want to even kiss.

OK, part of me was tempted but I was supposed to be home by eight, and that wasn't really how I want our first time to be, with his sisters around. And I don't like him pressuring me. Yes, I know he gets frustrated but, Jesus, it's not like he doesn't jerk off. (He jokes about it and I know he's not just joking.) Why can't he just enjoy kissing and use it as the base of a fantasy later?

I was going to walk home, but I didn't even make it to the end of the block. The snow was really coming down and I chose him over death.

I will say this, he doesn't try to force me. He whines and guilt-trips but he doesn't get violent. He wants me to want sex, too, and he doesn't understand my reluctance, but he just sulks when I reject him. And I feel rejected, too, like kissing me isn't good enough, unless it's leading to more.

I had to call Mom, who was stranded at the diner but couldn't understand my being stranded at David's. (But then she doesn't understand why I'm disgusted by her career choice, serving sandwiches made from hacked-up animals.) Anyway, I told her that nothing was going to happen with me and David since we were fighting.

We still exchanged Christmas gifts. He got me an animation cell that must've cost him a bundle. I got him some professional drawing pens, because I take his art seriously. (I got D.J. a jumbo-sized pack of Q-tips, but it was on his list.) We didn't make up then though. Maybe we would've after awhile. Or maybe we would've watched an endless cycle of _It's a Wonderful Life_.

David's mom came home and I said I hoped it'd be OK if I slept over. I figured I'd couch-surf and maybe David and I would make up in the morning. His mom said, "Well, isn't that convenient?", like I was going to sleep with her son.

Then his dad called and got in a fight with his mom. Mrs. Healy claimed she was at her sister Maggie's, but she wasn't exactly dressed for it, with a miniskirt and a lowcut blouse. Yeah, in a snowstorm, but she had a coat over it. Anyway, David wasn't buying it and his mom got mad at him. She made him apologize for not believing her, and she slapped him across the face.

I wanted to be anywhere else right then. I didn't want to see this. And then she said, "Telling me what to do, when you've got your little girlfriend spending the night. Dragging Conner trash over here. Another slut just like her sister."

What killed me was when, after his mom went upstairs, David apologized to me. Like he was embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated in front of me, and like it was his own fault. When he is so sweet, so gentle, it kills me.

I said, "Hey, 'slut' didn't bother me. It was the 'just like her sister' part that hurt." I had to joke, had to, although yeah, I meant it, too. Is that how Mrs. Healy sees me and Becky, sluts corrupting her sons? When Mark took Becky's virginity, and I haven't even gone to second base with David yet. All this time, thinking Mark was ruining Becky's life, and Mrs. Healy thinks Becky ruined Mark's? Well, I guess it just goes to show everyone's got their own point of view.

And David was hurting, not just from the slap but from the shame. I put my arms around him. How could she hurt someone so good? Yeah, I tease him and I threatened him when he peeped at that skank Molly, but everyone knows I'm like my dad, my bark worse than my bite. Well, I used to think my dad was like that.

Anyway, I wanted to hold David and take the pain away and I didn't know how. He put his arms around me after a moment, and we just held each other for a long time. He didn't cry but I would've understood if he wanted to.

"Please stay," he whispered, and I knew he didn't mean just that night. I knew I couldn't do much to protect him but I was glad he wasn't sending me away, and not just because of the snow. If it helped to have me there, I'd stay all night.

So I did. On the couch. Not that I got much sleep, thinking about him. And I don't know if this sounds sick, I mean even for me, but I knew by morning that I was in love with him. It wasn't the comics or the kissing or the laughing at the world together. It was seeing him in pain and seeing that, despite his parents (because his dad doesn't seem like much of a prize either, although better than his mom), he is a good, caring person. He's not a selfish jerk like Mark. OK, he wants to get laid, but he's sixteen and my boyfriend. It's not that bizarre. And I think he'll wait for me. He doesn't want me to go anywhere, and I don't want to go anywhere.

He walked me halfway home the next morning, after the breakfast he made for me and his sisters. (His mother was sleeping in, thank God.)

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, not sure if I was ready to hear but willing to, for him.

He shook his head. "Not this morning. Just hold my hand."

"In public? Ew, gross!" I said it in the same way at 13 I'd react to Becky talking about French-kissing. But David knew I was kidding, and he smiled a little. We held hands until we kissed goodbye.

I could've told him I love him, but I was hoping it would pass. I still am. He's never said it to me, but sometimes I wonder. I don't want to be in love, even with David. Look at his parents. They must've been in love once. And look at Becky, as Mom says, "letting love ruin her life." Look at Aunt Jackie.

I walked in on her in our upstairs bathroom. Her back was all bruised, like she'd been in a bad accident. Fisher did it to her. Yeah, her seemingly nice younger boyfriend. They were in love and he hit her. He beat her again and again. My wonderful, tough-talking but so soft aunt. And she blamed herself, she was ashamed that she let this happen to her. Mom told me some of it.

And she said, "I'm glad you're with a guy like David. I can tell he really respects you and cares about you. But you know that if Mark ever hits Becky, I'll kill him."

"Hey, why not just send Dad after him? He's pretty efficient."

This was after Dad got out of jail, when we could joke about it a little. But when I first heard that Dad beat up Fisher, I was scared as well as impressed. I think it was the right thing to do, even though I teased Dad about going to jail. Dad has a temper that he usually controls. Most of the time, he's a big teddy bear, but you don't want to cross him. He's never hit us. Grandpa Al hit Mom and Jackie when they were growing up, and I know she'd leave Dad if he ever hit us. So she's usually the bad guy and he just yells, although his yelling can be pretty scary.

There was snow on the ground when David and I walked and talked about Christmas, although this was a few weeks later. We were holding hands again, as I started by telling him about Fisher hitting Jackie, Dad hitting Fisher.

"Poor Jackie! Is she OK now?"

"Well, kind of. It's hard. She really loved Fisher. I think that's worse than the physical pain."

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"Do you love your mother?" I blurted out.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I guess, yeah. She's my mother. But sometimes I hate her, too."

"David, did she ever—?"

"Not that bad. Not like you described Jackie, with green and purple bruises and everything. She yells a lot. Not like your folks, but she—" He hesitated and then went on, "She says I'm garbage. A piece of, a piece of shit." 

"David!" I felt like crying.

"See, she's really mad at my dad but he's not around so she takes it out on me."

"Does Mark know?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. He's never been the protective big brother."

"What about, what about your sisters? Does she hit them?"

"Lisa and Nicki are so little and sweet. They don't mouth off to her like I do."

"David, that wasn't mouthing off. And, Jesus, even if you had a mouth like mine, it wouldn't excuse her. My mother doesn't hit me, although she probably wants to sometimes."

"Your mom is great. Your dad is, too. And not just in comparison to mine."

"So you're not just coming over all the time for the food? And the makeouts."

"Well, not only."

Then we laughed and kissed but didn't cry, standing there in the snow. And it hit me again that I love this boy so much, when I don't like what love does to people.

"Of course, when my mom finds out your dad went to jail, she's really going to think you Conners are a bad influence."

"We are," I said and then slipped him some tongue, in public, in the snow.


	7. Applying

Well, this was a surprising week with Darlene. We got to second base, bought condoms, and got caught parking. Oh, and we want to run off to New York together.

We were making out in her room like usual, just kissing. Then she stopped and said, "So listen, if we do more but not everything, would that be OK?"

"Are you kidding? I mean, yeah, I want sex but, well, what exactly do you mean by more?"

She took my hand and put it under her vest, over her blouse. "Well, this for a start."

"Oh. Yeah, that's nice. Can I squeeze?"

"Sure."

So I squeezed, not too hard, because I'd never touched a breast before, even through two layers of clothing. I could still feel it changing shape in my hands, and then it went back to its usual shape when I let go. "Was that OK?"

"Well, I don't have much to compare it to."

"Yeah, it's different than kissing."

"Well, yeah, and I've only been felt up once before."

I stared at her. "Who felt you up? I thought I was your first boyfriend."

"You are but." She sighed. "I made out with a guy when I was 13."

"Thirteen!?" I felt jealous and confused and, sorry, a little turned on.

"Well, almost 14. And I was curious. I'd never even kissed a guy before. And we got carried away a little. And I decided I'd slow down next time."

"Darlene, we've been together for months, friends for a year, and you're telling me now?"

"Oh, jeez, am I too impure for you?"

"No, it's just. I mean, did this guy mean anything to you?"

"No, so that's why it was so easy. Making out didn't mean anything either. With you, it's, I don't know, more serious."

"So if we were engaged, then we'd just hold hands?"

"God, David, don't make a big deal out of it. I'm letting you feel me up now. You should be happy."

I sighed. "Sorry. Can I put my hand back?"

"OK."

I gave her another squeeze but then asked, "So who was the guy?"

She shook her head. "David."

"Sorry. It's just, well, you're jealous of Molly, and I've never done anything with her. And now you tell me that there's some guy out there who's touched you like this."

"No, I let him put his hand under my bra."

"Darlene!"

She sighed. "Fine. His name is Brian and I've hardly talked to him in the last couple years. We were friends and making out ruined our friendship because he wanted to be my boyfriend."

"So why wasn't he?"

"Because I don't like dealing with all this crap about feelings."

"Well, sorry that I care about you."

"David. I care about you. I wouldn't let you feel me up if I didn't. This is supposed to be a step toward us 'becoming closer' like you want. Why are you ruining it?"

"You're the one who decided to bring up 'Brian' right now."

"OK, sorry, my timing is off."

"Yeah, by months."

"Fine, let's just forget it. You want to work on the comic or you want to go home?"

"I want to feel you up," I admitted.

"Because of Brian?"

"No, because I've been thinking about your breasts for months."

"Well, OK, then." She took off her vest and then her blouse.

"Oh God, Darlene, a black bra!"

"Half my wardrobe is black, don't be so shocked."

"No, I'm not shocked."

She glanced at my crotch. "Oh."

I crossed my legs. "Did you not want me to get an erection?"

"No, I'm realistic. You get erections from music videos. On VH1!"

"Well, yeah."

She took my hand and put it back on her chest. It was a lot different with only one layer left. For one thing, I could see her cleavage and the tops of her breasts, and imagine, more vividly than before, what the rest of her chest looked like. This time I made my hand very gentle, caressing the naked parts and the nipples that were standing out in her bra.

"Mmm, David!"

"Is that OK?"

"Uh huh." Then we started necking, which really enhanced the sensations, even if it split my attention. I wanted her so bad but I just tried to be grateful for what I was getting.

I put one hand on her back and whispered, "Can I unhook it?"

"Uh huh." This time she sounded a little breathless.

I didn't do a great job and finally she had to help me. She tossed the bra to her bedroom floor as I gazed at her beautiful breasts, paler than the rest of her skin.

"God, Darlene!"

"Touch them some more, David."

So I did, both hands. "So soft," I whispered and then we started necking again. I felt like I was dreaming, even though my dreams take me further than this.

After awhile, she lay back on the bed and I lay next to her.

"Please, Darlene!" I begged. "Now?"

"Not yet. Nothing below the waist."

"Well, then can I kiss them?"

"I'd like that," she whispered.

So I moved my head down and I kissed them, one by one, back and forth. She ran her fingers through my hair and she sighed my name. I felt like I was going to die but I couldn't stop. I licked the nipples and after awhile even sucked them.

"David, God, David!" she moaned quietly.

I could picture her sounding like that, only more, when we have sex. So I had to stop suddenly, say, "Excuse me," and race into her bathroom. I locked the doors on both sides, so D.J. wouldn't come in. I played with myself until my breathing returned to normal.

I felt embarrassed when I came back. This was a perfect opportunity for Darlene to make fun of me. But she was sitting up in bed again, smiling. "That was nice."

"Yeah." I sat next to her and kissed her cheek softly, "Thank you."

"Are you gonna jerk off every time we do second base?"

"Darlene!"

"I'm just asking. Because that could be awkward if we go parking."

"I'll try to control myself."

She kissed my neck. "Thank you, too. I can kind of see what the big deal about sex is. I mean, kissing and necking are sexy, but it's not the same."

"Yeah."

"David?"

"Yeah, Darlene?" Something in her tone told me that something big was about to happen.

"Now, don't get your hopes, or anything else, up, but I was thinking, we should be ready when it happens."

"Sex?"

"Yeah, sex."

"Believe me, Darlene, I'm ready!"

"You've been ready for a year, Stud." This time, that nickname was a different kind of tease than when she used it when she first invited me to her bedroom, to work on the comic. "But I mean, when it happens, we're probably not going to be thinking too clearly. I can't suddenly stop and say, 'Let me schedule an appointment with Planned Parenthood in Elgin.' "

"Yeah." I wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"So I think we should go buy condoms now."

"This minute?"

"Well, no, I'll put on my bra first. But I mean now as in the next week or so. Not that I think sex is gonna happen that quickly. But Becky said they don't expire that fast, and it'll be good to have them around, just in case."

"OK." I wished we could do it right then, but at least now there's a real possibility that we'll do it, when sometimes I have a hard time imagining it. Well, I can imagine it, but as a fantasy, not as a future reality. I kissed her cheek again. "Thank you."

"Hey, don't thank me. You're the one who's going to wear them. I just don't want to bother with the Pill like Becky did. I mean, you know how often I'm late for school. This isn't exactly something I want to be tardy about."

"Right." I wonder what it'd be like to wear one. Mark told me they take some of the pleasure away, but Dad said, "Not as much as a pregnant wife." Yeah, I know, my father's a great guy, huh? Not that Mark is much of a role model either, but sometimes I wish he was around to talk to about sex. Not in detail, I mean, Becky is sort of my sister now, but just you know, the basics. "How do we know what kind of condom to buy?"

"You mean like ribbed or flavored? Or do you need extra large?"

"Darlene!"

She laughed. "You're blushing. It's cute."

"Shut up," I muttered.

"So do you want some more second base or should we go condom-shopping now? I'll see if Mom has a half-off coupon."

I assumed she was kidding. And I of course chose second base. Better to get a little pleasure in the present than a lot of pleasure in the distant future.

We didn't buy the condoms until the next day. That was pretty embarrassing, for both of us, even though Darlene was making jokes the whole time, like "So if it's got extra lube, does that count as a fluid? Or is that just for human fluids?"

We finally went with plain, ordinary Trojans, no frills, "no French ticklers." Darlene bought a comic so it wouldn't look like we just came into the drugstore for rubbers. I half expected to be carded but the clerk didn't care. And it's not like beer or cigarettes. I think it's legal for minors to buy them. I'd hate to be arrested for something like that.

Darlene read the comic in line while we waited. "Hey, look at this, there's an ad for an art school in New York!"

"That's nice." At the time, going to New York sounded as implausible as us having sex, maybe more.

She didn't say anything more about it till a few days later, in her car. She explained how her mom's Cousin Ronnie was in town. Ronnie is a magazine editor in New York and she encouraged Darlene to apply to the school if that's what she wants. It's not just visual arts. It's fiction and poetry, too. Ronnie would let Darlene stay with her, and even loan her the money for the college, if she got in.

"You want to go to New York?" How could she leave me when we'd finally reached second base? Not to mention all the other things we've shared, like secrets about our families.

"Yeah, you should apply, too. I mean, you're a really talented artist."

"Well, thanks, but I don't know."

"Come on, it'd be an adventure. Together."

"Yeah, I guess. It's just, well, I thought when you wanted to park, you wanted to, you know."

"David, we can make out anytime."

"So you're already bored with it?"

"David, come on. We'll fill out the applications— I got you another copy of that comic— and then we can go park somewhere darker and, well."

"Yeah?"

"You can see my white bra."

"Really?"

"You're so easy."

"Well, yeah." I did have reservations, including where I'd be staying in New York, since I doubt her cousin would put me up, too. I mean, she sounds pretty cool, but there's no way Darlene's parents, or mine, would go for it. But I figured I had nothing to lose by applying. And it would be an escape from Lanford, taking the best part of this little town with me.

A cop caught us with the applications. I mean, he saw us parking and of course made assumptions, although we were fully clothed. We found someplace quieter, and darker, to park later, but I could see her white bra and her soft pale chest and her teeth when she grinned at the end. Then she teased, "Maurice, oh, Maurice!"

I knew I shouldn't have admitted my middle name. (My parents were _Bewitched_ fans, so I'm lucky it wasn't Darrin.) Still, there's no question that we're closer than we were a year ago. But I waited till after she drove me home before I jerked off.


	8. Housemates

I was sitting in my room thinking about everything that had happened since two in the morning when Jackie knocked on my open door.

"Hey, do you wanna hear the funny thing that happened at work today?"

"You mean that old guy slapping Grandma on the butt?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Yeah, it was hilarious, especially the way D.J. tells stories."

"Ah. Do you wanna talk?"

I did and didn't. I mean, I didn't know what good it would do, but I did need to talk to someone I trusted. "Yeah, come on in."

So she did, shutting the door behind her, and sat at the foot of Becky's bed. "So what's going on with you wanting David to move in?"

"What did Mom tell you?"

"Not much. Just that his parents are getting divorced and his mom said he could move in but Roseanne and Dan don't think they can take on that kind of responsibility."

That's mostly true, but there's so much more to it. "OK, I'll tell you more but you have to swear that this goes no further than this room."

"I swear."

I'm not sure how good she is at keeping secrets from Mom, but I decided to trust her. "OK, so David climbed up to my window last night and wanted me to run away with him."

Her eyes widened. "Like an elopement?"

"No, we're not as stupid as Becky and Mark. But, well, there's this art school we want to go to in New York. Cousin Ronnie will pay my tuition and let me live with her, if I get in."

"What about David?"

"We'd work something out. Like he could get a job in New York."

She looked dubious but she said, "Go on."

"Well, he wanted to go to New York now, without waiting to hear if we got in. His dad took his sisters and left, and his mom wants to move back to Michigan, with David. And he doesn't want to live with just her."

"Why not? He doesn't like Michigan?"

I hesitated and then decided I should go on, painful as this is to talk about, especially to Jackie. "She's abusive, mostly emotionally and verbally, although she does hit him sometimes. I've seen her slap him."

"Oh God, Darlene!"

"Yeah. And being alone with her, without anyone to protect him, he can't deal with that. He'd rather live on the streets of New York. And thanks to Mom and Dad saying no to him moving in, that's what he's going to do. And I can't go with him."

"God, Darlene, I just thought you didn't want to be separated from your first boyfriend."

"Well, I don't. I, I love him."

"Oh, Darlene."

"Yeah. So that's where we are now. I can't run off with him but I'm going to worry about him until I can see him again, if I ever do."

"Did he say when he was going?"

"His mom will be moving to Michigan by the end of the month, and he hopes to be long gone by then."

"Maybe, maybe I could talk to your mom about it."

"Thanks. Don't tell her all this. I mean about the abuse. I don't think he wants anyone to know. He's ashamed."

"Yeah," she said quietly, and I felt terrible that I was reminding her of Fisher.

She's been living here a month, in the basement, ever since she left Fisher. If she'd moved into my room, slept in Becky's bed, then David probably wouldn't have even come by at 2 a.m. He probably would've just gone and we never would've said that we love each other.

Last night I said that running away together, living together, was a big step, especially since we haven't even slept together. He looked at my bed and I told him to shut up. We did cuddle for awhile before I sent him home. I made him promise to not leave town until I talked to my parents, which I did before breakfast. I saw him at school and we hung out after. We parked but just kissed and held hands.

He said, "Did you really mean it when you said you love me?"

"No, I ask all the guys I date to move in with my parents."

"I am all the guys you date."

"Well, there you go." I sighed. "Yeah, I meant it. I hope you haven't lost all respect for me."

"I love you, too."

And then we kissed some more.

He came home with me when it was late enough for my mom to be home from work. She said no and David just took it like he didn't expect any better. He thanked her for considering it and left.

I told her she didn't know what she was doing and I said he'd run away. I thought about explaining about Mrs. Healy, but I felt like it wasn't my secret to share. It was different telling Jackie, who understands what it's like to be abused by someone who's supposed to love you and take care of you.

She now said, "You wanna watch TV?"

"Yeah, OK."

So we went downstairs and watched, but I took my notebook along. Even though I didn't know what my future with David would be, it was comforting to come up with stuff for our latest comic.

And then Mom came in, with David! And she said he was going to move in! I was so happy! He told me later that she went over to talk to his mom, who didn't know anything about him wanting to move in of course. We just said that to try to convince Mom. But what convinced her was seeing how hateful Mrs. Healy is. Mom knew that, as dysfunctional as this family is, at least we're healthfully dysfunctional.

She and Dad have forbidden us to even hold hands in the house. So we went parking after dinner. We talked and again said we love each other. And we went to second base again. I really like it. He does, too, although it frustrates him. But it's a step closer to sex, which I can imagine us having someday, here or in New York. Or maybe in Chicago, because we heard about an art school there. We'll apply there, too. My parents might accept that more easily, since it's closer. And there's no harm in trying. I still want to leave Lanford. It's great that David is now sleeping two stories below me (Jackie has moved out and in with Grandma), but it doesn't make life perfect. I still hate school and I feel like I'll only have a future if I leave here. But I need to have a clear future to go to. I won't just run off like Becky. I'll wait till I can get into a good school, where I can be creative. I hope that David will be with me of course. Because, yeah, I love him, and it's not going to pass.


	9. Break-Up #1

A lot has happened in the past 24 hours, including me and Darlene breaking up. We've fought before of course. Not like my parents, but like a normal couple. In fact, we sort of broke up before we were really together, when I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said she didn't think of me that way. We stayed friends but she stopped answering my phone calls and notes until she could sort out how she felt. Luckily, she decided to become my girlfriend. And that was over a year ago.

Then last night Molly came over, claiming she had to get a homework assignment from Darlene, who was at the library. I know that sounds pretty dubious on both sides, but that's what the girls said. I was babysitting D.J. again, but this time we watched wrestling together. After D.J. went upstairs, Molly started flirting with me. I didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, it's been going on for months and nothing has happened. She tricked me into complimenting her, by complimenting my art and saying she's not as pretty as the women I draw.

And then she kissed me. I didn't kiss back. Maybe under other circumstances, I might've. I'm not a saint. But we were sitting in the Conners' living room. After Darlene told me she loves me and after her parents let me move in. It would be a betrayal of not only my girlfriend but of her whole family.

It got worse. Molly wanted to go downstairs to my room, to make out, maybe even to have sex. She said we should because one, no one else was home, and two, I deserve better than Darlene. First of all, D.J. was home, and I found out later he was eavesdropping on us. And secondly, putting down Darlene isn't going to win me over. Part of why I decided I'd had enough with my mom, besides the divorce, was that she called Darlene a slut to her face, and a whore in front of Mrs. Conner. Yeah, I know, Darlene is the opposite of a slut. But anyway, Molly said that Darlene is weird and mean, but she just doesn't understand Darlene. Most people don't.

Then Mr. and Mrs. Conner came home with Darlene's grandmother, Mrs. Harris, and Mrs. Harris's friend Jake. So Molly left. I hoped that would be the end of it.

But D.J. told Darlene not only about the kiss, and apparently didn't mention my reaction, but he told her what I told Molly to prove that Darlene and I are serious about each other, that we want to go to art school together in New York. Darlene was furious with me and claimed Molly and I have been trying to get into each other's pants for months, which is just untrue, on my side anyway. She wanted her parents to kick me out but they, Mrs. Conner especially, like me too much. But it showed how angry Darlene was, when just a couple weeks ago she was worried about me running away on my own. And she knows I can't go back to my mom.

But that wasn't all I was feeling. I didn't want to lose Darlene. She means everything to me. But she refused to accept my apologies, even when I said that maybe I'd led Molly on without intending it.

After dinner tonight, where we fought some more and Jake thought Darlene was my sister (ewww!), I went upstairs to get my sketchbook and other stuff out of Darlene's room.

Mrs. Conner had talked to her first. I don't know what she said but it must've gotten through to Darlene in a way I couldn't. Mrs. Conner and Darlene are a lot alike in some ways, that same toughness and covering up emotions with jokes.

Mrs. Conner left the room and after a minute I realized that Darlene had been crying, over me! Obviously I don't want her to be sad, but I'd never seen her cry before. She doesn't like to be vulnerable in front of me. Even when we go to Second Base, she doesn't like to admit that I turn her on. She jokes about it, or at most quietly says she likes it. I felt like, even though in a way Darlene is the realest person I know, this was a side of her I'd never seen before, a side that probably no one outside her family has seen. She didn't want me to see it, turning away from me as I moved around the room, but that shows how real her tears were. Some girls cry over everything, and sometimes the tears aren't real. They're just to manipulate you, like sometimes when my mom cries. But Darlene was crying, crying because she didn't want to break up with me. And of course the break-up was the last thing I wanted.

I could've just told myself to forget about Darlene and go for someone easier, in many senses. Molly would've been happy to get me on the rebound, even if it was a break-up she contributed to, even if she tossed me aside after she "won." But Darlene is worth one hundred Mollys.

She told me she's not used to caring this much about one person. I know that love is another hard emotion for her, in a different way than sadness. And I know how caring about someone means that that person can hurt you. But I think she's worth the risk.

She made a joke and then she kissed me. I of course kissed back. And we were both sitting on her bed and she gently pulled me down on top of her. Her legs spread around me and I was hard instantly. We kissed and it felt so good to be with her, in a way that we'd never been before. Even though we had all our clothes on (I even had my shoes on), I could really imagine how sex would feel, lying on top of her, moving together.

"I love you, David," she murmured.

It was so hard, I mean difficult, but I had to use my willpower to whisper, "I love you, too, but your bedroom door is open. And your dad doesn't even want us to hold hands in the house."

She pinched my butt and said, "I'm not holding your hand."

"Darlene."

"OK, we'll make up more the next time we go out."

I grinned and nuzzled her neck. "Will that be The Night?"

"Not yet."

I raised my eyebrows. Was that good or bad? I mean, she sort of admitted, before we bought the condoms, that we're going to have sex someday. But I don't know that we're any closer to "getting closer" than we were before. Well, yeah, some, but there's still a long way to go.

"David! Darlene! You're going to miss dessert!" Mrs. Harris yelled from downstairs.

We laughed quietly and then I pried myself off my no longer ex-girlfriend. We straightened our clothes and went downstairs, holding hands. Mr. Conner didn't kick me out over it, but I think we'll have to wait till there's definitely nobody home before we go any further in the house again.


	10. Curfew

David lost his virginity without me. No, it wasn't with our next-door skank. And he did intend that it would be with me.

Ever since we kissed and made up over our break-up, with him on top of me and my legs around him, I've been thinking about finally having sex with him. But I still didn't want to do it at home. And when he and my mom wanted me to go to the prom, I figured I'd do something equally traditional, if not officially sponsored by the school.

I negotiated a late curfew and hoped to leave the prom early. I had the feeling David wouldn't object. The main question was where.

I immediately ruled out my car. It's fine for First and Second Bases, but I wouldn't want to lie down in there, especially with him on top of me. Well, I guess I could be on top, but there still wouldn't be much room in there. And also, we'd have to find a place to park where we wouldn't be disturbed, since that would be a lot more embarrassing to be caught at than filling out applications. (We've applied to Chicago now, too, but we haven't heard from either school yet.)

I guess this is traditional, too, but I decided to book us a motel room. A cheap motel room, but not too sleazy. I wouldn't have been able to afford the Lanford Inn, and that wouldn't have been as low profile as this place on the edge of town.

I didn't tell David ahead of time. It was partly that I wanted it to be a surprise, and partly that I was afraid I'd chicken out. If I felt like I wasn't ready after all, he would never have to know.

Molly's sister Charlotte was going to the prom, although not Molly, thank God. Charlotte let Mom give her advice on the dress and everything, like Becky would've if she hadn't started seeing my future dork-in-law by junior year and missed prom. I just bought the first dress at the thrift store that I wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear in public. And obviously that eliminated any hand-me-downs of Becky's.

So Prom Night arrived. I let Mom take one picture of the happy couple and then we left. David really was more into prom than I was, and I knew he wasn't just going there to make fun of our classmates.

The prom was all right I guess, but obviously I was distracted. I waited until we were slow-dancing before I told him about the room and that this could be The Night. Instant erection of course. I'm surprised he could manage to walk, let alone quickly lead me off the dance floor and out to my car. As I put the key in the ignition, he said, "Darlene, you don't know how happy you've made me."

"I think I can guess," I said, but that's pretty mild teasing for me.

He waited in the car while I signed in and got the room key. Then we went to the room together.

We sat on the bed and he said, "Um, do you want foreplay?"

"I thought that's what the slow-dancing was."

Then we started kissing. It was sort of like usual, except that this time I wouldn't put him off when he'd want to keep going past Second Base.

But we were necking when he suddenly pulled away and said, "I don't believe this!"

"What's wrong?"

"I lost my erection."

"You're probably just nervous. Relax and I'll help you get it back." I nuzzled his neck and put his hand on the top of my dress.

But it didn't come back. For a change he felt pressured, even if some of that pressure came from himself. See, he got hung up on his performance, so then he couldn't perform at all. But I didn't expect much the first time. We were both virgins and we hadn't gone to Third Base yet. I mean, I've thought about going that far, but I figured it would be too hard to stop from, compared to necking and all that.

Anyway, we both accepted that it wasn't going to be The Night and there was no point missing curfew if nothing was going to happen. I drove us home. At least my parents hadn't waited up for us. It was awkward enough. When we kissed goodnight, David said, "I'm really sorry, Darlene."

I said, "No biggie," which didn't help.

He went down to the basement and I went to my room. And for the first time in my life, I touched myself. It wasn't just a matter of sexual frustration, although that was part of it. I also had to imagine the night going the way I'd hoped, how maybe it will someday, not necessarily in Lanford. I stripped down to nothing and pretended my hands were David's. I couldn't help wondering if he was masturbating two stories below.

I guess I was emotionally drained, because I slept for the next twelve hours. David got up even later, since he was still in his robe when I came downstairs, showered and dressed for a very late brunch.

It was extremely awkward between us, even more so when Jackie came over and asked about Prom Night. David lied badly and she was understandably suspicious. She probably thinks we had sex, when that assumption was, um, premature.

"This is stupid," I said when she went upstairs. "How about you book the motel room and we'll pretend I'm giving in to stop your whining?"

He smiled. "You mean it, Darlene?"

"Hey, whatever works. Short of me wearing a pink teddy."

His face turned red, but not from embarrassment.

I glanced at his crotch and said, "Well, look who's back in town."

So we went back to the motel that night, last night. He paid for the room and got the key, while I waited in the car. It was much earlier, since curfew was back to normal. We went out after dinner, claiming we were going to see a movie. And we did put the TV on in the room. We started out making out while watching it, like we do on the rare occasions we have privacy at home. But this time there was no way D.J. or anyone could interrupt.

We were in our regular clothes and he started feeling me up above the waist. I took off my vest and my blouse, and he squeezed my breasts outside and then inside my bra. We were necking all this time and it was great.

I undid my bra and lay back on the bed. I could still see the TV over his crazy hair, but obviously I wasn't watching as closely now. He kissed my breasts and then sucked them.

When he paused for breath, I hit the remote and then turned off the TV so I could turn my boyfriend and myself on more. I unzipped my jeans and wriggled out of them.

"Mmm, Darlene!"

"Oh, David, I'm just swept away by passion! I can't control myself around you!"

He chuckled, although I wasn't entirely kidding. Then he looked at my crotch and asked, "Can I touch you there?"

"Oh, David, what if you lose respect for me?"

"Come on, Baby, I love you." I wasn't sure how much was parody and how much was truth.

"I love you, too," I said, guiding his hand with mine, on top of my black panties and then helping me out of my black panties. It was awkward, since he didn't know what he was doing and I wasn't that familiar with it myself.

"Darlene, I really want to put a condom on, just in case."

I wasn't sure if I was ready, but maybe he should before it was harder to stop.

"OK, but wash your hands first."

He got up and took the condom box with him into the bathroom. When he came back, all he was wearing was the condom. I wanted to stare and study him, the first naked boy, or man, I've ever seen, but he said, "Can you turn out the light? I feel self-conscious."

I wanted to say, "You have nothing to be self-conscious about," but I knew that wouldn't help. And the goal that night was to keep him hard long enough for us to have sex. So I turned off the lamp.

He felt his way back to the bed and onto me. We necked and I spread my legs. I let it build awhile, as I could feel his hardness on my pelvic bone and sometimes against my inner thighs. We exchanged I-love-yous and then I dared ask if we were ready to have sex. After a long but not pregnant pause, he said, "I think I just did."

"Well, congratulations, but I don't think you were actually inside me."

"Well, no, but I was between your legs."

"I guess that's progress."

He kissed my cheek. "I'm sorry, Darlene. Do you want to try again later?"

"No, we don't want to break curfew. Besides, maybe we should do this at home, where it's free."

"I think that would be breaking a bigger rule than curfew."

"Not if we don't get caught."


	11. Getting In

Wow, what a day! I didn't get into art school but I did get into Darlene, twice.

After school, I went to the post office to check the box we share. Obviously, we didn't want any mail from the two art schools coming to her house. We didn't want her parents to know about it. Not that it matters now of course.

Usually we go together, but today she'd promised to babysit D.J., so I went on my own. I was very surprised when, after weeks of nothing, there were four letters, two for me, two for her, New York and Chicago. I really wanted to at least open mine, but that wouldn't be fair to Darlene. I'd wait till I got home and we could open them together.

I walked home as fast as I could, but I would've run if I'd known what would be waiting for me.

Officially, I'm not supposed to be upstairs, especially in Darlene's room, if nobody else is home, but I didn't see anyone downstairs. So I went up and knocked. "Hey, is D.J. around?" I of course didn't want him to know about art school, but if he was in his room, we'd probably be OK.

"No, he went to a fellow mutant's house, so I'm off duty. Why? Did you want to have sex?"

I forgot all about the four letters in my pocket and shut the door behind me. "Well, if nobody else is home."

"Yeah, we might not get another chance for awhile."

It wasn't the most romantic conversation, but I think we were both trying to sound more casual about it than we were. After I failed two nights in a row in a motel room, we've promised each other not to make a big deal out of it, even though of course it is a big deal.

I kicked off my shoes and lay down next to her on the bed. We kissed and cuddled for awhile. Then we necked and I put my hand under her blouse.

Then she surprised me by saying, "Maybe we shouldn't take all our clothes off."

"Isn't that going to make sex difficult?"

"I mean we could leave our shirts on and just take off our jeans and underwear. In case D.J.'s friend gets sick of him and sends him home."

I didn't want that thought in the back of my mind, but she had a point. Plus I felt self-conscious being naked in the motel. I think she's beautiful naked, but I know all the flaws of my own body. I didn't want her looking at me by the light of day and making comments.

We got under the covers and took off our own jeans and underwear, but I did let her help put the condom on me, by feel rather than sight.

"This is so unreal," she said. "That's gonna be inside me!"

"God, I hope so!"

She laughed, even though I wasn't trying to be funny. Then she asked, "Can I play with it?"

"You might make me come," I warned.

"I'll take that risk." 

She started really touching me, so I started touching her. Just like in the motel room, I thought about what it would be like to be inside her. And I knew that maybe that wouldn't happen for awhile, but we were making steady progress.

We started kissing again, while we were touching each other's crotch, and then I felt her guiding me in!

"God, Darlene! "

"Move your hand out of the way!"

"OK. Would it hurt if I thrust?"

"Just do it!"

So I did. "God!"

"David!"

"Are you OK?"

"Just get on top!" she ordered, wrapping her legs around my butt and rolling us over so that she was on her back and I was on her front.

"Give me some more, David, but go slow."

"I'll try but I don't have a lot of control." 

"Consider this practice." She unwrapped her legs.

I pulled all the way out and then slowly found my way back in. "Ah!" I cried, like I was discovering something, although nothing I could articulate.

"Do you like being inside me?"

"I love it! I love you!"

Then we started necking, and I was really glad we're so close in height, because I could keep pumping into her.

She bit my neck and said, "David Healy, who knew you'd be such an animal?"

"Is it too much?"

"No, I want you to take as much of my virginity as you can. I sure as hell am going to take all of you I can."

And she did, soon urging me to go faster and deeper. And she was rocking me from underneath. It's a wonder I lasted as long as I did.

Afterwards, I pulled off the condom, pulled up my jockeys, and sat on her bed with a stupid grin on my face. It felt incredible that we'd finally done it, but the sex was incredible in itself. I mean, I'd always heard how great sex was, but this was even better than I'd imagined.

I think she liked it, too. I mean, she probably didn't come, but at least it didn't seem as bad as they say the first time usually is for girls. Hopefully the foreplay helped.

I wanted to talk to her about it some more, but unfortunately she thought she heard her parents. We put our pants back on, but it turned out to be a false alarm. Still, it got my mind off sex and I remembered the letters. I told her I had a surprise for her and she said "Already?" Even I couldn't get hard again that quick.

I took the letters out of my back pocket and told her what they were. We opened them, one by one. First New York rejecting her and then me, and then Chicago rejecting me and then her.

I'm glad I hadn't known when I brought them. I wish I still didn't know, although maybe it's better not to have pointless dreams. In some ways I feel worse for Darlene, since she feels more stuck in Lanford than I do. But neither of us liked hearing that we're not talented enough. For over a year, the comics we make together have given our lives meaning. I mean, yes, our relationship is important, too, but it's all connected. I know we could still work on the comics, just for the fun of it, and maybe get better, but right then we both felt rejected.

Still, when she suggested doing it again, I of course said yes. Maybe it was for distraction and maybe it was to cheer each other up, but I didn't care.

"I know a school you can get into," she said, nibbling my ear. "The Lanford Remedial Sex College."

"Yeah?" I put my hand under her blouse. "Has it got an opening? "

"Only for a young man of your unusual talents."

Even though she was teasing, it was the first time she ever referred to me as a man. I guess I am one now, and she's a woman. I do feel different now, not necessarily older, but definitely more experienced, though still with a lot to learn.

"I hope they give lots of homework."

"They do and here's your next assignment." She whispered something beautifully dirty in my ear. And I did my best to fulfill it.

"I love you so much, David!" she cried when I actually made her come.

"I love you, too, Darlene. And as long as you want me, I don't care if no art school does."

"Well, there's a lot to be said for home school. Not to mention the joys of one-on-one learning." And then she was the one on top and if I'd had any virginity left, she would've taken it then.

"Darlene Conner, who knew you were such an animal?"

"Well, I am a slut just like my sister."

"You are nothing like Becky. I mean not that I know what she's like in bed. Or want to know."

"You can stop talking now."

"OK," I said and used my mouth more pleasantly.

I would've happily stayed in her room all afternoon, but D.J. came home a few minutes after I came the second time, and Darlene the third, so I put my jockeys and pants back on and snuck downstairs while he was playing videogames. I don't think he noticed me, since it wouldn't be like him not to say something.

When I was back in my room, I jerked off, reliving fooling around with, making love to Darlene. Afterwards, I wanted to call her, but of course that was impossible in the house. So I just stared at the ceiling, sending thoughts up to her, hoping she had had as much fun as I did and hoping she wasn't too disappointed about art school. Not that I'm not, but given the choice, I'd much rather get into her.


	12. Splurge

I've been really mixed up and confused the last couple weeks. Not about sex, like I expected, but about my future. Yeah, it turns out I actually have one.

David and I finally did it, yes, at home. We were alone and, like I joked over a year ago, I figured I may as well become a woman. It wasn't perfect of course, but it didn't hurt and it was fun once I got used to it. David of course thought it was amazing. When we weren't necking, I'd watch his face. Yeah, he did the weird sex faces I've heard of, but he was also more handsome than I've ever seen him, both older, like he really was turning into a man, and younger, in that I've never seen such a look of wonder, not even when we went to Chicago for the comics convention.

And speaking of the Windy City, David had stopped by our for once not empty PO box. We both got rejection letters from the Big Apple, which was kind of a long shot anyway. Chicago rejected him, too, but they accepted me. I couldn't believe it. He's at least as talented as I am. How could they not see that? I couldn't be happy about my own acceptance because of that.

I lied and pretended I got a rejection letter, too. I felt guilty about it, both the acceptance and the lying. It just wasn't the time to tell him, not when he was depressed. And I hated the thought of leaving him when this was supposed to be an adventure for both of us.

I suggested we have sex again. I wanted to distract and cheer up both of us, for different reasons. Also, I wanted to prove to myself that I needed to be with David and I couldn't leave him.

This time I was naughtier, wilder. I mean, the toe-sucking was probably over the top, although I enjoyed it. And I faked an orgasm, twice. But I really did come when he came inside me again. I was thinking about how much I love him, and how even lying to him was a form of love, because I don't want to hurt him. Plus, even though acting slutty was an act, I got turned on by how turned on he was, and then when he lost control and had to come, I suddenly felt that way, too.

The problem was, once he was back in his room, I thought about Chicago, what an opportunity this is. I'd get out of Lanford and go to a school where I wouldn't be a freak. You know, like if D.J. got into clown school.

I talked to Jackie about it, since I knew I'd need her help convincing my mom. My dad and David could be dealt with once I got past that mountain.

Jackie was the arbitrator when Mom and I first talked about it but it did not go well. Mom flat-out said I'm too young to leave home. OK, I'm only sixteen-and-a-half but I'll be seventeen in October, and I'd be going to college, not running away with an idiot, like Becky did.

David came in at the end and Mom thought he knew about my Chicago acceptance. So then I had to deal with him before I was ready. It'd have been different if Mom had said yes, but now I had to explain myself when I probably couldn't even go.

He was angry that I'd lied to him and that I wanted to leave him. But the thing is, I don't want to leave him. I suggested he go with me and try for next semester, but he wouldn't go for that. He stormed off and then the next time I talked to him, he said, "Just know, Darlene, if you go off to Chicago, that's it, we're through."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, just a statement."

"You're going to make me choose?"

"Yeah. This was supposed to be something we were going to do together."

"David, it's not my fault that you didn't get in."

"No, but it's your fault that you want to do this without me."

I shook my head. "Why are we even arguing about this? My mom isn't going to let me go. So I'm stuck in Lanford with you anyway."

"Wow, thanks, Darlene. That makes me feel so much better."

"I didn't mean it like that. You know you're the only good thing in this crappy little town."

"Well, thanks. You obviously love me, since you lied to me and kept secrets."

"David, I was trying to protect you until I sorted out how I felt about art school." Not that I had or have completely yet. 

"Yeah? Why? Because I have a fragile ego?"

"Not only."

"Very funny. I bet you faked your orgasms, too."

"Not all of them."

"Ouch!"

"Well, David, you were so worried about your performance. And it was my first, and second, time and that's weird for a girl."

"I could've been more gentle. I don't have to be an animal."  


"You're a gentle animal. It was fine. It was a little uncomfortable sometimes but not painful. And it was just weird to me having sex at all, when I've spent my whole life trying not to get close to people, emotionally or physically."

"Darlene, I'm your boyfriend. I love you. I'm not like everyone else."

"I know. And I love you, too. I don't want to lose you. And not just because you're a good lay."

"Really?"

"You are so distractible."

"No, I mean, I'm glad you thought I was good, but I'm really that important to you?"

"Yeah."

"More important than Chicago?"

I sighed. "Yeah. And if I have to choose, I choose you."

"Oh, Darlene!" He hugged and kissed me, there in my car, but we didn't make out. I couldn't shift my mood that quickly.

And maybe we could both apply again next semester, or next year. I don't know.

I'd averted a break-up with David, but Mom and I kept fighting. BitchFest '93, what a time we had. She thought I was going to run away to Chicago, and OK, I almost did.

One night I packed, snuck out, and got in my car. I saw myself pleading with the art school for early admission, or at least a chance to start my bookstore job early. I'd live in Chicago this summer, on my own, without having to see David and Mom's guilt-inducing faces. (Dad, as usual, was in denial, which is nice sometimes.)

But I couldn't do it. Not just because I knew Mom would send the cops after me. I knew I couldn't do this alone. People think I'm the tough one, the strong one, and David is just the wimpy boyfriend who goes along with everything I say. Never mind that he's won on every point in our relationship, through patience and whining.

I thought of him as a friend, but he wanted to go out, so now we're in a serious relationship. I didn't want to hold hands in public and now we make out in my car and have sex in my room. (Only once in the past couple weeks though. Mom's been keeping track of my whereabouts too much, and I know D.J. is her little spy. So one quickie when D.J. had hockey practice is all that David and I have managed.) And, yeah, I wasn't even sure I wanted to have sex before I went off to college, but I did. He gets his way every time. And if he doesn't want me to leave him, I'm not going to.

I did try, that one night. But before I even started the car, I started thinking about what it would be like, on my own. What if I'm not as talented as everyone else? Sure, I'm talented by Lanford standards, but I think Chicago has higher ones. If David were with me, believing in me, telling me how great I am, building up my confidence, it would be different. And I'd looked forward to seeing him shine. Also, this is so corny, but I wanted to do the college stuff with him, like throwing frisbees and having him hold my hair back when I get pukingly drunk. We could make fun of the professors and our classmates together, like in high school. How could I face this brand new world without my best friend?

So I got out of the car and took my stuff back into the house. I snuck past Mom, who was passed out from eating a quart of ice cream. I went to my room and unpacked. I didn't tell David about this of course. Instead, the next day, after detention, I asked him, "How would you like me to give you what every teenage boy wants?"

His eyes widened. "You mean it?"

"Yes, a compact disc player."

"Oh, that would be cool, too."

I'd taken $300 out of my savings account. I'd been planning to use it in Chicago, but I knew if I spent it, especially on David, then it'd be telling myself that I wasn't going anywhere. I'm definitely staying with him. And it did make him really happy. He's so easy to please, not just in bed, and I decided I should try being nicer to him. I mean, not so much that he'd get suspicious about my personality change, but nicer than I have been.

I made up with Mom and things sort of went back to normal. I even got Becky's old job at Buy & Bag, so I can save up again. But then Dad insisted that I should go. I think he feels guilty about Mom never becoming a writer like she wanted. But that's different. I'm not giving up writing. I'm just not going to college at sixteen. Anyway, I told him and Mom that I'd changed my mind. I didn't want to go.

And then later I guess Mom talked to David and she got the idea that I'm not going because of my boyfriend. Yeah, he's a factor, obviously, but it's more to do with my self-doubts. When I admitted this, she decided that I needed to go, to take that risk of rejection. So I guess I am. But now I need to talk to David, and that's going to be really hard, especially after I told him I'm not going. Will he break up with me? Can we work things out before I leave in a few months? All I know is that this summer is going to be very different than I imagined back before Christmas.


	13. Break-Up #2

All summer long, I thought about breaking up with Darlene. After all, wasn't she saying that she didn't want to be with me, by making the choice to leave me? Why couldn't she wait for me to get into art school? Or if I never do, we could go to Lanford Community in a year or two. And then maybe transfer to a real college after that, maybe not in Chicago, but at least out of Lanford. Meanwhile, we'd have each other and Lanford wouldn't be so bad. Instead, I'm going to Lanford High without her, and it's just not the same. Even detention isn't fun anymore.

I couldn't do it, I couldn't break up with her, not while there was still hope that she'd change her mind and not go. So all summer long we were together, although not like I'd hoped we'd be. We didn't have sex again, although we still hugged and kissed. She said she felt guilty about lying to her mother about it, but it's not like her mom doesn't know. Mrs. Conner told me to my face that she's in denial about it. OK, Darlene and I didn't announce it at the dinner table or anything, but I'd admit it if I had to. Well, maybe not to Mr. Conner.

Anyway, Darlene and I were still affectionate, just not passionate. And I have to admit, even when I got horny, I did feel like I didn't know if I could trust her enough to be herself during sex. She did admit to my face that she faked her orgasms. Well, two out of three, which is almost as bad as all of them. I thought when we had sex after I got my rejection letters that we'd shared the rejection. But later I questioned her motives.

I don't know. At the same time, shit, she's my best friend! And I'm crazy about her. And I understand how important art college is to her. I really do. But more important than me? Doesn't she care enough about our relationship to make sacrifices? And, like I said, it wouldn't have to be forever.

Part of me thought maybe we needed more of a commitment. Maybe if she saw how serious I was about her, then she'd be serious, too. So I proposed to her. After all, Mark and Becky went through some rough times, but then they got married and they're still together. OK, at the time I thought it was stupid, but what if it wasn't?

So I suggested to Darlene that we become engaged. I didn't get down on one knee and propose. I figured she'd laugh in my face if I did it like that. As it was, she still said it was stupid. Not even, "Oh, David, that's very sweet but...."

Fine, if she felt that way, then it was over. I told her I wanted to see other people. OK, maybe my timing could've been better. I shouldn't have said it right after I said I wanted to be engaged. But I meant both things.

We got in a fight and it really was over. Not like our first break-up, where she just misunderstood what happened with Molly and had to learn to trust me. There's no easy way to make up this time. I'm not even sure I want to.

Except that I miss her so much! She's in Chicago now, and there are reminders of her all around me, not just at school. I mean, I'm living in her house, with her parents and brother. There are photos of her, including our prom picture on the fridge. Sometimes I think about asking Mrs. Conner to take it down, but I'm trying to act like it's no big deal, like none of this bothers me.

On the other hand, I think of all the problems in our relationship, like how she tried to control me. Not like my mother, but maybe there's some weird Freudian thing going on, like I found a girl who would put me down like my mother did. Except Darlene was very different than my mother and there were times when we really connected.

I miss doing the comics with her. I still draw but it's just sketching. There's no story to it, like my life has no narrative anymore, no center.

I guess I just need time to mourn her before I can move on. I do think about dating again, but I'd be on the rebound. And at this point, I don't know any girl who I'd like a tenth as much as Darlene, despite all her flaws. When I've healed enough, I can go out with a nice, cute girl, not looking for anything serious, just a nice time. After all, Jackie, who had that awful relationship with Fisher, has healed enough that she went out with a new guy, Fred something, who works for Mr. Conner. I don't know the details, even though sometimes Mrs. Conner and Jackie act like I'm not even in the room and girl-talk in front of me like they never do in front of D.J. Anyway, I guess Jackie had a nice time and she likes Fred, but she's not looking for another relationship. Maybe soon I'll get to that point, where I can have a date now and then.

Meanwhile, yeah, I jerk off a lot. I try not to think about Darlene.

I don't know what will happen when Darlene comes home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, not to mention next summer. Maybe by then the bitterness will be gone and we'll be able to be friends again. She probably wishes that we'd stayed platonic friends, that she hadn't taken the risk of kissing me, dating me. Sometimes I feel that way, too, but despite everything, I'm glad I got to be in a relationship with, to be in love with, and, yes, to fool around with and make love to a special girl like her. I guess it's part of growing up, having your heart broken. It's just, most guys don't live in their ex's house. At least the Conners still like me, and not just in comparison to Mark.

And you know what's funny? I'm still sort of related to her. Someday Mark and Becky will have kids and those kids will be surprised when they hear that Uncle David and Aunt Darlene went out back in high school. And we'll be middle-aged, and involved with other people, and we'll just chuckle as we reminisce about how young and stupid we were. But it's a long while till we'll be ready to look back and laugh.


	14. Upside-Down

For awhile, the world has felt upside-down. I wanted David to drive me to Chicago, but instead he proposed to me and then broke up with me. And then Mom stayed over my first night in my apartment and we talked about love and sex, like peers.

And I love school. I never thought I'd say that. But instead of useless classes like Biology and Geometry, it's stuff like Modern Literature and Creative Writing. I'm even making friends, like with the editor of the literary journal.

But, yes, I miss David. I keep wishing he was here to share this with. And he could tell me about all the cool Visual Arts classes he'd be taking. At the least, I could call him and tell him, but we had that big fight, and it sometimes feels like he hates me. I don't hate him. I don't even completely regret having sex with him. I better understand why Becky didn't regret, during their break-up, that she had sex with Mark. If you love someone, maybe it's worth it. I don't know. And if I think of my life before David, then I know I wouldn't have applied to art school if not for him.

...

Even though I think Christopher Columbus was a terrible person, I jumped at the chance to spend a long weekend in Lanford. (No Friday or Tuesday classes either.) Well, I told you my life is upside-down. I wouldn't have gone if Mom hadn't said that David would be visiting Mark and Becky. I know, the Healy brothers don't get along, but I thought of how David's life is upside-down, too, and maybe he wanted to take a break from his ex's house.

It turned out Mom had lied. David was around and knew nothing about my visit. I really resented her manipulations, trying to get us back together. I thought about heading back to Chicago, but then I found a way to get revenge on her, by forming an alliance with D.J., who's been ditching school but needs the help of an expert.

Not only did I pretend to be Mom when the middle school called, but I also found out from D.J. that Mom had no intention of inviting Grandma to Jackie's housewarming party. So of course I invited her, just to piss off Mom.

Meanwhile, David and I did our best to avoid each other, but he made it clear he didn't approve of D.J. ditching, as if David has never ditched himself, like when we went to the comic convention. I was sure that when Mom asked him, he'd rat D.J. out, but he told her he didn't know anything about it.

It turned out he was mad at Mom for trying to manipulate us into getting back together. Ironically, this led to us making up. Neither of us has been seeing anyone, although he had threatened to. I'd felt like I wanted to sort out how I felt about him and dating before I got back into all that. But I was happy to be back with him.

I wanted to seal our reunion with sex, but one, I didn't want Mom to know we were together, and two, we didn't have any privacy.

Then on Tuesday, when D.J. was ditching again, David and I gave him all our quarters and sent him to the arcade. Luckily, I'd brought my laundry home, so I can put off the laundromat for another week or two.

"So, David, if I promise not to fake any orgasms, will you do my laundry later?"

"OK."

We went up to my room and again got under the covers and just took off our underwear and pants. Someday I'd like to get a good look at him naked in the light, but I guess that will have to wait until we can be alone somewhere besides my house.

It wasn't rushed though. We spent a lot of time kissing and fondling and saying how much we missed each other. It felt really good to be together again, even though I don't know how often we can have sex now. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Our eyes locked as he moved inside me and I held him so close.

"I love you, David," I whispered, feeling really vulnerable, but wanting to feel that way.

"I love you, Darlene. God, so good!" Then he started panting. "Gonna come!" he gasped.

"Come in me, David! Oooohhhh!" I moaned.

"Not faking? Oh God!"

"Real!" I cried. And it was, making our bodies shake together, even if it wasn't technically simultaneous.

Afterwards, we kissed tenderly. Then we showered separately. By the time D.J. got home, David had started a load in the washer and he and I were cuddling on the couch while playing videogames. D.J. agreed to make us lunch (soup and sandwiches), so I didn't mind playing "Mrs. Conner" again when the phone rang.

I didn't recognize the voice on the phone, but I just figured this man was somebody else who worked in the middle school attendance office. I found out later that it was Dad's friend Fred. I found out more immediately that he handed the phone to Mom, who was on to all three of us.

David and I have agreed we'll get her back at Halloween, maybe with D.J.'s help. Something that will take advantage of her love of meddling. Meanwhile, I guess the world is right side up again, back to the normal abnormality.


	15. Roommates

"David, are you sure you don't want us to keep you company while you wait?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Conner, but I don't want you two to be late for work."

"Well, call us if you need anything."

I knew she meant if I wanted to come back to Lanford. "I will."

She gave me a hug, and then Mr. Conner, who hadn't said much, gave me some money, "for snacks on the train," although it felt like more than a few bucks.

I waited until they drove off before I went to the counter and exchanged my ticket to Lansing for one to Chicago.

Sure I feel guilty, but Darlene and I came real close to breaking up again. I need to do what I have to in order to keep her, even if it means I'll be "a kept man."

As hard as it was being without her during the break-up, it was even tougher after we made up. Life seemed so meaningless. I kept hoping she'd get bored without me, as bored as I was, and she'd come home for good. But she was having a great time at school, and getting the sort of recognition for her talent she never got at Lanford High.

Meanwhile, I started skipping school, more than I used to. I think the reason why it bothered me when D.J. was ditching is that I feel like weird as he is, he does fine. He never has trouble finding friends who are equally weird. His grades are OK, not Becky level, but not bad. He plays hockey and has other hobbies. (Including apparently one we share, but I don't want to think about that.) He had no reason to ditch, other than he was going through a phase.

I recently skipped two weeks in a row. And then Darlene came home and didn't want to talk about the A she got, or any other of her accomplishments. I felt like the stupid loser high school boy she left behind.

So we fought and she said she didn't know why she bothered coming home. It wasn't for sex, because we didn't have much privacy. That probably added to our irritability.

Then on the last day of her visit, she said we should go for a drive. I hoped for make-up sex, or at least make-up makeout. But when we parked, she said, "I think this little experiment proves I was right."

"Right about what?" I asked warily. Did she mean right that we should've stayed platonic friends? The last year and a half was more than a little experiment.

"Right that you should've moved to Chicago with me."

"Oh, yeah, your parents would love that."

"We wouldn't have to tell them. We could just say you're going to Michigan to be with your mom."

"Why would I do that?"

"She really misses you and she's going to try to change."

I couldn't see Mrs. Conner buying it. "How about we get married? Then they'd have to let us live together."

"Like Becky and Mark?"

"Well, yeah."

"Number one, I can't think of worse role models. Number two, she was a lot closer to being eighteen than I am now, and our parents knew that there was no point in trying to get it annulled. And number three, I'm not getting married."

"Ever?"

"Well, not while I'm too young to vote. Even we white trash have our standards."  


"But you'll live in sin?"

"Since when are you Mr. Morality? You wanted to deflower me almost as soon as we met."

I blushed. "I just mean, it'll be different, living together, with no one else around, able to have sex whenever we want. Um, I'll start packing tonight."

"Easy, Stud. We'll have to make the timing plausible. You can tell my mom you've been thinking about her advice to be less dependent on me and you talked to your mom etc. But wait a week."

I said OK but ended up telling her parents that day, right after Darlene left to catch the bus. Mrs. Conner was worried about me, but Mr. Conner told her they have to let me go. They both made it clear that I'm welcome to move back if things don't work out with my mom. They're really good people and I was very lucky they took me in. But I'd rather shack up with Darlene.

I didn't tell her I was leaving so soon. I wanted to surprise her by just showing up on campus. I knew she has Lit Club meetings Monday afternoons, and the campus isn't that big or hard to find. So I sat on a bench in the cold of November, glad it wasn't snowing. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long. I saw her come out of a building, talking to some people.

Suddenly, I felt shy and awkward. And also a little bit like a stalker. What if she'd feel embarrassed in front of her hipster friends? I picked up my backpack and was going to try to sneak away, but then she said, "David? Oh my God, you're here!" Then she ran over and hugged me. It felt really good to hold her again, even though I'd seen her just the day before.

She introduced me to everyone and then excused herself since we had a lot to catch up on. She waited till we were walking towards her off-campus apartment before she said, "This isn't exactly a week."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's OK. I'll just have to redo my week's budget. I hadn't factored in my kept man."

I felt guilty that she'd be supporting me with her scholarship money. Well, maybe I can get a job, even if I am now a high school dropout. "I've got a little cash." I explained about the train ticket partial refund and the snack money.

"Great, we can upgrade from large to extra large pizza. You still a carnivore? Meat costs extra."

We got pineapple and olive. I liked it, even the next morning for breakfast.

We caught up over dinner and then we went to bed early. It was wonderful knowing that we were all alone and no one could interrupt us. We liked having this secret, even if we felt a little guilty about it.

She nuzzled my neck and said, "Although if you think about it, my mom already knows we've had sex, so it shouldn't matter what town we have it in."

I didn't point out that her dad doesn't know. I didn't want to think about her parents anymore.

"Can we get naked? "

"OK." I reached for her lamp, but she moved my hand back onto her chest.

"Not this time, Mr. Shy. If we're going to be living together, I need to see all your disfiguring tattoos and blemishes. "

I have a little acne, but not that bad. "Why do you care? Girls aren't as visual as guys."

"Especially guy artists. Come on, strip. I need to see if you're worth supporting in luxury."

I shook my head but took off my hoodie and then my shirt.

"Mmm, you've got a bit of curly hair on your chest and in your armpits, like I thought. Not like on your head, or...."

Now I really blushed, but I took off my jeans and jockeys.

"So that's what you look like when you're not hard."

"Well, I feel really self-conscious right now."

"David, I think you're gorgeous but don't expect me to say that all the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, once a year at most."

"I think you're gorgeous, too. And I'll say it as often as you'll let me."

"Say it one more time, even if you don't mean it," she whispered as she started to take off her clothes.

I didn't stay limp for long. And I told her, not just in words, how gorgeous she is. Her pointed chin, her hard pink nipples, her deep green eyes, her firm ass, everything, especially her wild hair.

We kissed and touched and wrapped around each other like we were starved for each other. It was wonderful to be back inside her, feeling our skin touch everywhere. And she clung to me as if she never wanted to let go again. When we came, it was like candles melting together.

We fell asleep still wrapped around each other. I felt so happy the next morning, this morning, finally waking up in the same bed, for the first of many mornings.

She reached for me and said, "It'll have to be a quickie. I'm supposed to meet my study group this morning." So I gave it to her quick and deep, till we were both panting.

I wanted to take a shower together, but she said it would take too long. I let her go first since I didn't have anyplace I had to be. Well, I could look for help wanted signs, but that wasn't on a schedule.

By the time I came back from my shower, she was dressed and on the phone, to her mother! She signalled to me to be quiet. I'd told Mrs. Conner I didn't want to tell Darlene about my plan until I got to Michigan, because she'd try to talk me out of it. Of course Mrs. Conner had to interfere and tell Darlene. I'm surprised she waited as long as she did. And I'm very glad she didn't call during sex. Mark once told me she used to call Becky when they first got married, just to interrupt. At least in this case, it wouldn't be deliberate.

Anyway, Darlene's at the library, which is a lot more believable than it would've been six months ago, and I'm wearing her bathrobe, drinking coffee, looking at want ads, and trying not to think about how I'll greet Darlene when she gets home. Our home.


	16. Going Home

I really didn't want to go home this weekend. I mean, I like football, even though I don't play sports anymore. (Well, occasionally frisbee, if that counts.) But I didn't want to spend my time hanging out with a bunch of fat, smelly, middle-aged guys, reliving Dad's high school glory days. But it was the 25th anniversary of their big Homecoming game, and Mom insisted, since Mark and Becky were coming home from much further away, Minnesota, that I should come home from Chicago. She did agree that I wouldn't have to stay overnight, so I gave in.

"I wish I could go, too," David said wistfully as he walked me to the bus station.

"Thanks, but I think it would be more challenging than ever to find privacy for sex, with the crowd they're expecting."

I can still make him blush. "I know, but I miss everybody and it'd be fun to visit."

"David, you've been gone less than two weeks. And I thought you were happy here."

"I am. Just like you're happy here but you still visit."

"David, the main reason why I was visiting before was so I could see you. Even when we had broken up."

"Really?"

"Of course, you idiot."

Then we kissed.

"Well, it's only for one day, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in time to brighten up your night."

He blushed again.

We haven't been doing it every night, or every morning. I mean, I do need to sleep occasionally, and I've got school and my part-time job at the campus bookstore. Also, a couple days after he moved in, I got my period. It was different having it around him, sharing a bed and a bathroom, rather than being on different floors. And there was no one else around. I felt even more vulnerable and exposed than I do during sex.

David was fine about the PMS. He's used to that and he's seen it's not as bad as my mom's, which is almost satanic. But now he was confronted with the physical side, and that was an adjustment for both of us.

"Rethinking that marriage proposal, huh?" I said, as I rinsed out my period panties in the bathroom sink.

"No, I'm an adult. Well, almost." He went back in the other room.

Even though he was weirded out, it did give him an extra excuse to be sweet, which he likes and which, OK, I like it, too, if it's not overkill. He bought me chocolate and cooked more (we mostly eat out), and he gave me great stomach and back massages. I don't want to be spoiled all the time, but for those five days, it was good. And I guess I'll have that every month. I could get used to that.

We didn't have sex during my period. Neither of us was ready for that. But he did lots of breastplay, loving how swollen and sensitive my tits were. And I gave him handjobs, so that kept him satisfied. I think it was good for us, to be sexual without capital-S Sex. We've got the luxury of being able to really explore and get to know each other.

And, yeah, I'm relieved that I'm not pregnant. We still use condoms but sometimes condoms fail. Ask Aunt Jackie. She's three months pregnant from a one-night stand with Dad's friend Fred.

"Jackson, how did this happen?" I asked when I finally had a chance to talk to her about it today. (I've known for about a month, Mom told me, but Jackie and I hadn't chatted since then.) We were waiting for free stalls in the ladies' room at the Lanford Inn, at the reunion before the party back at the house. "You've been having sex for over twenty years, and you never got knocked up before, right?"

She blushed as she said, "Um, Darlene, I don't know if this is something I should be discussing with an innocent child."

I snorted. "Jackie, I may be more innocent than you were at seventeen, but I'm not a child."

"Well, OK. No details, but Fred broke the condom."

"He broke the condom? Was he too large or too vigorous? Or both?"

"OK, we're done."

"What? No 'learn from my example' speech?"

Anne-Marie came out of a stall and Jackie pushed past her and into the stall.

"Excuse her," I said. "She's pregnant."

"Yeah, I heard. And how's your love life, Darlene?"

Now I blushed, but I said, "Pretty dead since David left for Michigan."

"Uh huh."

Anne-Marie doesn't say a lot but I've always got the feeling that she's hard to bullshit. Not unlike me, actually. Mom can be lied to if you go about it right. I was glad when another stall opened up and I didn't have to lie to my mom's old friend from high school anymore.

Jackie has no intention of marrying Fred. She wants to have the baby and raise it on her own, although you know my mom will interfere like usual. Fred seems to like Jackie, but after the whole Fisher thing, she's hesitant to get into another serious romance. I can understand. I mean, I'm enjoying living with David, but it is a big deal to suddenly share your life with someone.

"Darlene," David said to me the other night, "you know that I'd marry you if you got pregnant."

"Whoa, slow down! One, we are going to do what we can to prevent me getting pregnant. And two, I'm not sure I'd keep it."

"You'd get an abortion?" He looked a little shocked.

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd want that option."

"Well, yeah, I understand a woman's right to choose. But it would feel different if it was ours."

"Maybe. And maybe I couldn't go through with it. But we are really young, David. Not like Jackie, where Mom says that Jackie feels like this is her last chance to have a baby before she's too old. We're just starting out our lives. And it's hard enough to support you."

He frowned. "I am looking for a job."

"I know. But right now, money is tight. And I don't want to quit school to have a kid when I'm not even technically an adult myself."

"But what if we were older? Like eighteen or twenty?"

"I don't know. Are you asking if I'd keep the baby or if I'd marry you?"

"Well, both."

I sighed. "Look, if I got pregnant and decided to keep it, then, yeah, of course I'd marry you. This isn't like Jackie and Fred. They hardly know each other and she got pregnant after one, admittedly memorable, date. You and I have been in a relationship for over a year and a half and we love each other. We live together. But, I really don't want a shotgun wedding. OK?"

"Yeah, of course. And I don't want to get married yet either. We're together now and that's enough."

"Good." And then we made love and I didn't get much sleep.

Weird as it was being back in Lanford with David gone, it was even weirder talking to Becky in our old room for the first time in over a year. We've hardly talked at all since her elopement. She only came back that one time, right after. All those holidays, all those crises, not just my drama, but our aunt being abused, and our abusive grandfather dying, and Becky never came home. Minnesota was too far away. But we talked on the phone a few times, like when I told her I was going to art school. She seemed happy for me, whether or not she was jealous.

She's changed since I last saw her. I don't know if it's married life or what. She grew her hair out again, probably because Mark never really liked the bob. And she puts on the sweet act that she used to save for school, but now she even does it in front of the family, maybe to balance out Mark's surliness. (D.J. observed today, "You two should've switched boyfriends back in high school." I would be totally bored by Old Stupid, but I got D.J.'s point.)

I did the reunion at the inn, but I refused to hang out at the party at our house. I went up to my room to wait till I could go catch the next bus back to Chicago. I saw that Mom had redecorated the room, adding a bunch of dolls that she probably got at the thrift store, to make it look like Becky and I had a happy childhood. (The last time I saw our actual dolls, Becky and I found them in a box in D.J.'s room, beheaded.)

Becky came upstairs and I asked her why, if she and Mark spent last night in our room, the beds weren't pushed together. She said they don't do it every night. I guess the honeymoon is over. Does that mean that after a couple years, my Healy boy won't want sex every night? Maybe I'll finally catch up on my sleep. (I will say this, he does his best to get me in the mood, too. And he does listen to my no's, like during my period, but he'd love it if I was as horny as he is.) As for Mark, I know Becky loves him and everything, but I can't imagine what she'd do with him when they're not having sex. It's not like they eloped for conversation.

Becky asked me about college, and it was pretty clear that she is jealous. She took her high school equivalency exam, like I did, so there's no reason she can't go to college if she wants. She's only 19. And she asked me about David, which was also weird, because she never seemed to care much about our relationship after she gave me the advice to take a chance on dating him.

Still, when she said it was brave of me to leave him behind for art school, I decided to confide in her. It's hard keeping the secret of shacking up from everyone, and I feel even guiltier being home, because of course Mom brings him up and hopes he's doing OK with his mom in Michigan. I swore Becky to secrecy and I think I can trust her, because I will say this about the former Bubblebutt (her ass is tinier than it used to be, maybe her diet has less lard since she moved out), she and I have kept each other's secrets when it's a case of us against our parents, or us against D.J.

To me, it's living together that's the big deal, all the everyday life stuff, now crammed into a studio apartment, but for Becky it's the fact that I'm having sex with David that matters. She said I shouldn't let sex rule my life, yeah, ironic coming from her. Anyway, I didn't tell her that I had sex with David before I left for art college. I'm still me, even when I'm part of what I once more innocently called "a DavidDarlene monster." Even when we're making "the beast with two backs" (yes, I'm taking Intro to Shakespeare this quarter), we are still very much two individuals.

Anyway, now I'm on the bus, going home, my other home, the one where I have a life that includes but is not limited to sex.


	17. Giving Thanks

Darlene called her mom this morning to say that she's not going home for Thanksgiving. We didn't want to be apart again, especially not for a long weekend. She told her mom that she was going to Michigan to see me. Not a complete lie, since we will see a lot of each other, but the location and the circumstances are different.

When I said I was surprised that her mom bought it, Darlene suggested we "join together and give thanks."

I'd been affectionate with her while she was on the phone, nuzzling her neck and playing with her hair, but now she pulled me down to kiss her. I love when she does that. It's like she's in control and surrendering herself at the same time. It never fails to make me hard, if I'm not already, as I was in this case.

We kissed and necked and rubbed together with our clothes on. We still enjoy making out, even though we've had sex. It never gets old. And even though I love sex, having so much time together makes me more willing to spend time savoring the steps along the way.

After awhile, we rolled onto our sides, and I pushed up her blouse. I stroked her stomach, not like when I massaged her period cramps, but caresses where I could feel how flat and smooth her skin is there. Then I slowly moved my hands under her blouse. I grinned as I discovered she hadn't put on a bra for this quiet day at home. My hands curled around her breasts, making her sigh. Then she gasped as I teased both nipples. They hardened under my fingertips.

Then I slid down the bed and moved my head under her blouse. She arched her back, bringing one nipple closer to my mouth. I teased it with my tongue for awhile before I sucked it.

She gasped my name and started squirming on the bed. She took one of my hands and moved it to the button of her jeans. She could've undone it herself, but I knew she wanted me to. I did it slowly and then unzipped her slowly. I knew that she needed and wanted a little frustration.

Then she wriggled out of her jeans and moved my hand onto her panties. I touched them very lightly, till she groaned. Then I slowly eased them down to her knees.

And I didn't stop sucking her tit all this time. But now I switched over to her other one, as I very lightly caressed between her legs. She made more noises of frustrated excitement, and then started thrusting against my hand. So I started fingering, teasingly at first and then fast and deep.

"God, David!" she groaned.

"Do you wanna come, Darlene?" I really wanted to be inside all that wet openness, but I was also really enjoying having her be the one to lose control.

"Please, damn you!" 

I chuckled and then I touched her lightly down there as I kissed down to her stomach. I wanted to get a better look at her between the legs, because usually I'm just feeling my way before I enter her.

I gently rolled her onto her back and moved my head down to her crotch.

"David, God, David, are you really gonna—Oh!"

I realized what she was asking. I could've said no, that I was just going to look. But now I wondered how she tastes. Her legs were spread and I put my mouth between them. She tasted good, really good.

"Oh God, David! Sweet David!"

I looked up at her. "Tangy Darlene."

She blushed. That was the last I saw of her face for awhile. I stayed below as long as I could, loving how I was able to make her come, and to feel it, taste it, as it happened. She rubbed against my face, begging for more and showing me precisely where and how that more should be.

It was definitely different than sex for me, but I could tell it was at least as good as sex for her. I was a little worried she'd never want sex again after this, but maybe this could be foreplay.

When I had to lay back and rest my tongue, she said, "I guess it's good you're a carnivore."

"Well," I said, my speech a little slurred, "too bad you're a vegetarian."

"I might be willing to make an exception on Thanksgiving."

Before I could reply, she sat on my face and started undoing my jeans. I couldn't believe this was happening. I've thought about 69 of course. What guy hasn't? But I've been hesitant to mention it to Darlene because it took so long for us to work our way up to sex, I figured something like that was another year or two off.

It was harder to concentrate on pleasuring her, when she was taking down my jeans and jockeys, not to mention when she started teasing my erection with her hands and then lips. And obviously she was distracted, too. But we both enjoyed being in control and surrendering. In some ways, it was like when we make comics, give and take, collaboration. Not that we don't have that during sex, but that's different because it's easier to talk during. We had to find other ways to communicate, with our mouths full.

I lasted longer than I do during sex, partly because she was on top and partly because I didn't want to thrust too much, not wanting to make her gag. Also, yeah, I was still working on giving her orgasms, while enjoying the feel of her tongue, which can be so sharp when she talks but now was so sweet and loving.

After awhile, she climbed off me.

"Are you tired?" I asked, trying to hide my disappointment.

"No, I'm just going to get a condom before I ride you."

"God, Darlene!" I gasped. Sometimes she really gets to me with her matter-of-factness.

And she did slide a condom on me, before sliding herself slowly down, saying, "You taste good, David, but now I need it inside me."

"Yes, Darlene, God, yes!"

"Did I taste good, David?"

"You're delicious, Darlene, especially when you come."

"Sweet David!"

"Sexy Darlene!"

We thrust at each other and my hands went under her blouse again, one teasing her nipples, and the other gently bringing her chest closer to my mouth. Then I sucked one tit as she rocked on me.

"Oh, David, I love you!" she cried as she came.

Then I carefully rolled her over onto her back and showed her how much I love her, how thankful I am to have her, thrusting again and again into the sweetest spot on this bittersweet girl.

The rest of today couldn't compare, and not just because I burnt the macaroni. We both feel guilty we didn't go back to Lanford. But if we had, we never would've had such a memorable Thanksgiving feast. And I don't mean the mac and cheese.


	18. Seasonal

"So how's everybody doing?" David asked when I got back a couple days after Christmas.

"OK I guess, but it's kind of crazy."

"In what way?"

"Well, D.J. stole a car, Mark is going to college, and Becky got a job at Bunz."

"She wears that skimpy little outfit?"

"I knew that would get your attention."

"No, I mean how demeaning."

"Don't you think she has the right to work where she wants? And wear what she wants?"

"Well, yeah, of course."

"And of course a smart girl like Becky wants to show her ass off to a bunch of drunk losers so her moronic husband can go to trade school."

"Darlene, will you please stop switching sides so I'll know which to agree with?"

"So how was your Christmas?"

"It was OK." He kissed me. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"So D.J. stole a car?"

I sighed and took off my boots. "It was a couple weeks ago, but he forgot to mention it when he and Grandma made their surprise visit."

"Hey, is he still gonna keep our secret?"

"It looks like it. And he actually misses me. But then we always hung out more than he and Becky did."

David nodded. "It was like that with me and my little sisters. Mark mostly ignored them, and me."

"Do you miss Lisa and Nicki?"

"Yeah, I do. I thought about visiting them, and my dad, but it's too far away and expensive. Besides they, and my mom, think I'm still living with your folks."

"What's going to happen if your parents call my parents, expecting them to put you on the phone?"

He shook his head. "They didn't call for Christmas, did they? Or my birthday. They don't care."

"Oh, David." I put my arms around him, thinking of how I fell in love with him last Christmas.

We hugged for awhile and then he let go and said, "So you must be a proud sister."

"Oh yeah, Ms. Straight A in hot pants. It warms my heart."

"I meant the grand theft auto."

"Well, it was just my mom's car, but yeah, it's a start."

"Do you think he's looking for attention?"

"D.J. has always done weird stuff. I'll start worrying if he ever acts normal."

"Tell me more about Christmas at the house."

"You mean did you miss any good fist fights or confessions of unwed pregnancy?" While David and I were doing 69 for the first time (it's awesome, in a different way than sex, although I do miss the eye contact), Nana Mary said that Grandma and Grandpa had to get married, because of Mom. It wasn't just senile ramblings. Grandma admitted it. The sad thing is, I've always got the impression that Grandma doesn't like sex, and here she ended up married because she had it too soon. Or maybe she doesn't like it because of what it did to her life. It's weird to think I wouldn't even exist if not for a mistake from over forty years ago. As for the fist fight, I'd called later in the day, feeling guilty about not coming home, and D.J. told me about Mark and Dad hitting each other as it happened. Yeah, I wish I'd seen it.

"No, I meant like the food and decorations."

I started with the decorations, since my parents went all out this year, defying the neighborhood association by making the biggest, tackiest display they could.

"I wish I could've seen it."

"It was dazzling."

"And the food?"

"I don't want to torture you when you've been living on Ritz crackers for three days." He gave D.J. $112 as a bribe, when D.J. found him hiding in my bathroom, so that means less food money, although Dad gave me some more before I caught the bus back to Chicago.

"It's OK. I made a mock apple pie from the recipe on the back of the box."

"Really?"

"I'm kidding. But you can tell me."

So I did. And when he was totally salivating, I took the leftovers out of my backpack.

"Mmm, I've missed your mom's cooking!" he said between bites.

"Most of this is Becky's, but she's always been more domestic than I am."

"Darlene, D.J. is more domestic than you are."

"Well, you're not living with me for my cooking."

"No, you're living with me for my cooking."

"And sexual services."

He stopped eating and kissed me. We kissed for awhile. I'd missed this, even though it'd been only a few days.

When we stopped to breathe, I asked, "So how have you been amusing yourself in my absence? Besides jerking off of course."

I didn't tell him that I'd played myself in his basement bed. Mark and Becky have moved in, since he lost his great job in Minnesota. Mom and Dad gave her a check so she could go to Lanford Community College, but she passed the check on to Mark, which really pissed me off when I heard. She used to be the one with the bright future. What happened? I was so disappointed in her, I couldn't even tease her much about her butt.

Anyway, they've got our old room, with the beds pushed together, and I just hope they won't make demon spawn all over my mattress. Yeah, they can't even support themselves, but Becky lost all her common sense when she got with Mark, and I wouldn't put it past her to have a baby before they move out.

Meanwhile, now that I'm just an occasional visitor, I get David's room. I don't mind, although it does get kind of cold down there. I warmed up by imagining that David was there and I'd sneaked down to be with him, something I never actually tried when he lived there, because my parents would've killed both of us. In the fantasy, we got away with it, making love quietly and secretly.

David blushed when I said "jerking off." Then he said, "I've been drawing."

"Stuff for your spank bank or the comic? Or both?"

I feel guilty that we haven't done much for the comic since I started college. At first, it was because we'd broken up, but even after we made up, I've been so busy with school and everything. I know, it's ironic because I'm in art school, but all my creativity gets channeled into that, and there's nothing left for collaboration with him. Yeah, we collaborate in bed, and I love it, but it's like sports, where there's no final product. OK, it's not like sports in that there are no spectators. Anyway, I hope that what I'm learning in school will mean I can write better graphic novels someday, but it doesn't help with that right now.

"Neither. Do you wanna see? "

"Of course."

He reached for his sketchpad and flipped it open to the middle. Then he handed it to me.

I turned the pages and saw myself, only much more beautiful than I am. "How did you do this? I never posed for you."

"It's from memory. So I might've gotten some details wrong."

"Yeah, like I don't look nearly this good in real life."

"You do to me."

I blushed and couldn't bring myself to say anything sarcastic, like that he needed his eyes checked. I kept turning the pages, seeing myself from different angles. In some pictures, I had clothes, and in some I didn't, but none of it was pornographic. I felt self-conscious, much more than I do when I'm naked in real life.

"Don't worry, I won't include all of these in my portfolio."

"Your portfolio?"

"Yeah, there's still time to apply for next semester."

"Oh." We hadn't talked about it in months, and I guess I sort of figured he'd given up on getting in.

"Unless you think I'm not good enough. "

"David, you're incredibly talented. And you get better and better. It's just...."

"It's just what?"

"Well, let's think this through. If you get in, we'd have to keep that from my parents, because they'd want to know where you're living. So we'd have a new layer of lies either way, pretending you didn't get in, or lying about where you're living while going to college." 

"So you're saying I can never go to your school?"

"No, of course not. But let's wait till next fall, when you'll be 18 and I'll be almost 18. Then, even if they don't like it, they'll have to let us live together."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense."

I meant what I said, but part of me doesn't want to share my college experience with him. I like having something that belongs to me. That probably makes me a terrible girlfriend, a terrible person, but I can't help it. And at the same time, I like coming home to him, having someone to tell my good and bad days to. I know, I should encourage him to get a life of his own, but I know he'd rather share in my adventure, as more than a spectator.

God, are we as messed up as Mark and Becky? Well, at least we're not as bad as Fred and Jackie. He comes to holiday dinners now, and they're still not even dating.

I distracted David with sex, just to end the conversation. Just simple missionary. I didn't come or even pretend to. I wasn't feeling particularly creative. He felt bad that I didn't come, so afterwards he went down on me till I came. I thought of how I had sex with him after both art schools rejected him, and I felt even guiltier now. He is warm and loving, and the best artist I've ever met, even in art school. Maybe Molly was right that I'm not good enough for him. Ugh, I hate seasonal depression!


	19. Break-Up #3

Darlene and I broke up again and this time I think it's really over. It's hard to say when things soured. Maybe the day I moved in, when I felt weird around her friends. Maybe when the holidays came and she had to lie more than ever to her family. Maybe when she talked me out of applying for the next semester. Or maybe it was when I first saw her drop acid.

She has all these friends, way more than she ever had in high school. Some of them are kind of nerdy, like the literary journal crowd. And some of them like to party. At first, I went to the parties with her. I mean, what choice did I have? Stay home and mope? I do enough of that while she's in school or at work. (I tried to find a job, really, but I've never had one before, not counting babysitting. And I am a high school dropout in the big city.)

The first party, they offered us pot. After all I went through, claiming that the stash her parents found belonged to me, I didn't want to bother. I did pot a couple times before Darlene was in my life and I felt so alone, with Dave Malone and my old friends that I never see anymore. (Great, now I'm noticing that "alone" rhymes with "Malone." Too bad I can't write poetry as good as Darlene's.) Anyway, Darlene had done it, too, and she'd told me she doesn't like anything dulling her rage. But this time she said sure. I didn't make a big deal out of it. I mean, it was just pot, and I eat meat, so who am I to judge?

She had pot at a few more parties. I still didn't call her on it. She got very giggly and silly, very un-Darlene, but that was OK. Then I saw her drop acid. She told me she was just curious, but then she did it at the next party, my last party.

"Look, if you want to screw yourself up, fine. But I'm tired of watching."

"Fine, then I won't have them give you a pity invite again."

I can't blame the drugs entirely for the fights, but we did argue more and more as the weeks went on. One time she came home from a party and I called her a zombie, and she said I was the zombie, just sitting around the apartment, watching TV and drawing and waiting for her. Our sex life pretty much died, so that didn't help my mood.

I felt trapped, living with the girl I loved, seeing her change. It wasn't just about her having a life of friends and creativity, without me, although that was part of it. It was the good and bad changes in her, and I guess in me. But what I could do? Where could I go? My dad didn't want me, since I'm not a sweet little girl who worships him. And my mom never wanted me, except to push around, and I got enough of that from Darlene. I couldn't move back with her parents, since I'd have to pretend that these three months in Chicago never happened. I couldn't even swallow my pride and beg Mark to let me move in with him and Becky in Minnesota, since they'd moved in with the Conners after he lost his job.

Then tonight we came home from a crappy fast food place, all we could afford when we were sick of living on vending machine food. We argued the whole way home and then I said words I couldn't take back. I called her horrible, the meanest person alive. That might've been OK. Darlene has been called those things by almost everyone who's met her. But I said, God, I said, "I don't even love you anymore." Because that's how I felt at that moment. The girl I loved didn't exist anymore.

She had no snappy comeback, no wittily snarky remark. And I wanted her to fight back, like always. And I started to wonder if I'd actually hurt her, if she's still hurtable.

We went into the apartment and there waiting for us were Mark and Mrs. Conner! I knew Darlene shouldn't have told Becky about us living together. She swore she could trust her, that this is something that their sisterly bond covers, secrets about sex and relationships. But she forgot that her sister is my brother's wife, and it was likely that Becky would confide in Mark, who has no real brotherly bond. My first thought was he'd told Mrs. Conner, just to make me suffer. But why had it taken him a couple months to say something?

Then he called me "Davo." Mark was five when I was born and he couldn't pronounce "David." My parents thought it was cute, so they didn't correct him, and he would still call me that when we were older, not exactly a pet name, but a way of saying that deep down I was still his baby brother.

"Mom, just gets mad sometimes. She doesn't mean to, Davo."

"I'm moving out, but you'll be OK, Davo."

"Don't let them take the elopement out on you and Darlene, Davo."

And I knew now that he hadn't told her deliberately. It probably just slipped out. So I couldn't get as mad at him as I wanted to. And it's not like Mrs. Conner showed up when Darlene and I were in the honeymoon period.

When Mrs. Conner said that she was going to shred us, I was sure she'd kick me out into the street. But maybe Mark would help me, out of guilt at least. Then it turned out she was taking me home with her, back to Lanford. Darlene was happy to see me go. She said her mom was doing her a favor. So I knew Darlene wouldn't forgive me saying I don't love her. I guess I can't expect her to. She probably doesn't love me anymore either.

Mrs. Conner yelled at me the whole way back to Chicago, about how Darlene and I had lied and betrayed her, after she'd stuck up for me. "All those times I told Dan you're nothing like your brother. Uh, no offense, Mark."

"None taken," he said, blowing cigarette smoke out of the open window as he drove and I shivered in the backseat.

"But, David, I never thought you'd turn out to be a horny little liar who cared more about getting laid on a regular basis than about living an honest life or getting a high school diploma."

I didn't defend myself. What was the point? She wasn't entirely wrong. And even if she were, I wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise.

She only paused when we stopped at a gas station. Mark and I were standing at the urinals when he said, "For the record, I didn't tell her. I told my friend Roy. And he told her when I moved in."

"Wait, you moved in with Royal?"

"Yeah, see, Becky and I had a fight."

"What about?"

"It doesn't matter. Anyway, I'm sorry you're going through this. That's why I came along, to keep her from shredding you as bad as she could."

"Oh, well, thanks."

It wasn't till we were washing our hands that he quietly said, "I dropped out of trade school and Becky is ashamed of me."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Mark."

"Thanks. I can't wait to hear what your little girlfriend has to say about that."

"She's not my girlfriend anymore. Were you not paying attention to what happened in Chicago?"

He shrugged. "Couples fight. It's part of being together."

"And part of breaking up."

"I broke up with Becky once. It didn't stick. We'll probably make up from this."

"But did you ever tell her you don't love her anymore?"

"No, I'm not that stupid."

"Thanks."

He messed up my hair. "You'll be OK, Davo. Give it time."

"Yeah, I'll send her flowers and chocolates while I'm homeless."

"You won't be homeless. Hell, Mrs. Conner let me move in and she doesn't even like me. She's crazy about you. She'll yell and she'll find a way to let you stay in her house."

"Is this before or after Mr. Conner castrates me for shacking up with his daughter?"

"Hell, he never even hit me for taking Becky's cherry."

"No, just for not supporting her."

"Oh, you heard about that."

"Yeah, Darlene told me all the good holiday stories."

"Like about their great-grandmother asking her about 'that nice boy Kevin'?"

"Oh God, you didn't tell her that's my name, did you?"

"No, I think she heard it that way when Mrs. Conner first mentioned you and I guess it's stuck."

"Great."

Mark shrugged. "It could be worse, Maurice."

I scowled. "Thanks."

Someone pounded on the door. "Will you two hurry up? Jesus, and they say women take forever in the bathroom!"

"Ah, the sweet voice of our mother-in-law."

"Shut up," I said, but I did feel better after our talk.

We went back out to the car and I let Mrs. Conner yell at me the rest of the way home and even into the house. But she didn't tell Mr. Conner the truth. She said things didn't work out with my mother. So I guess I can stay here, although now I'm back in the situation I was during the last break-up, where I'm living in my ex's house. Plus now my brother's here, which is a mixed blessing, since he's not always going to stick up for me. Yeah, he made up with Becky. I went in the kitchen to get a midnight snack, and I saw him and Becky making out on the couch.

I don't think making up with Darlene will be that easy, or even possible. But at least I'm not homeless, so that's something. And I no longer have to miss this house and everybody in it. I just have to miss the meanest person alive.


	20. Guilt

The weekend after Mom took David away, she wanted me to come home. I wasn't ready to deal with her, Dad, or David. I didn't know at first if she was going to kick him out, send him back to his mom, or what. But she was keeping him around to do housework, not telling Dad our secret, controlling David through guilt. I told her I had an important essay due on Monday, which I did, although I'd finished it early.

She said, "OK, Darlene, but you're coming home next weekend." I think she wasn't ready to deal with me, and maybe she was worried I'd tell Dad and ruin her little arrangement.

I went to a party and did speed. I wanted to escape the mess I'd made of my life, and I thought it'd be great for a change to do drugs and not worry about David's accusatory puppy face. But speed didn't exactly relax me. It made me paranoid and insomniac. So I spent the rest of the weekend staying awake and thinking horrible things about myself and everyone. The worst part was sitting in that empty apartment. By the end of living together, I hated coming home to David, so how could I miss him? I blamed it on speed, but the feeling didn't go away.

Then the night before last, I got a call. "Listen, I know you hate me, but I need your help."

"I'm sorry, Caller, please identify yourself."

"Darlene, come on."

I sighed. "Where are you, David?"

"Jackie's."

"Jackie's? Why?"

"I couldn't lie to your dad anymore."

"Why not?"

"Darlene."

"Go on."

"I told him I'd been living with you, not my mom. He got so angry that he kicked me out and was gonna send me to my mom. So your mom got Jackie to take me in till he calms down. But it's weird here."

"Oh, the Fred and Jackie thing? Yeah, I know."

"Well, yeah, that's part of it. They had a big fight and she said she wanted him the hell out of her life."

"Did she call him the meanest person alive?"

"Darlene, I'm so sorry, you have no idea."

"Tell me more about Fred and Jackie."

He sighed. "So a couple nights ago she was crying about Fred and she felt like no one will ever want her again. So I told her how great she is and, um."

"What?"

"Well, she kissed me."

"Tongue or no tongue?"

"Just on the cheek! But I thought, well, I thought we were, um, having a moment."

"David, you thought my middle-aged, very pregnant aunt was hitting on you?"

"Darlene, I'm really vulnerable right now. And so is she."

"So you wanted something to happen?"

"No, but, it's just weird."

"Well, she has always had the hots for you."

"She has?"

I couldn't help laughing a little.

"You're still a bitch."

"Yeah, I'm a horrible person. Like aunt, like niece."

"Darlene, look—"

"Never mind. So why are you calling me about this? We broke up. You don't need to confess to me, entertaining as it may be."

"I want to move back to your parents'. And not just because it's really awkward here."

"Do you want me to call them?"

"Would you be willing to come back to Lanford? Not forever, just the weekend."

"The weekend is going to feel like forever. But you're still my best friend, so I'll do it for you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, but I've got a shitty bunch of friends." I thought about telling him about the speed, but it didn't seem like the right moment. It'd probably just confirm that he didn't love me anymore, and I didn't want to hear that again.

"Thank you, Darlene. Really."

"Don't thank me till it happens. My dad isn't going to be easy to convince."

"I know. But please try."

"I'll try. But I've got to go and call my mom now."

"OK. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Later."

"Um, later."

It wasn't at all the phone call I'd imagined us having a week and a half after our latest break-up. But I didn't want him to beg me to take him back. I can't live with him anymore, hard as it is to live without him. But I think he belongs with my parents, the best of a lot of bad options.

So I called my mom and said, "I'm coming home this weekend."

"No big essays?"

"Not this time."

"OK, well, you may as well know that you won't have to avoid David. He's gone to live with his mother."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so I hope you feel even guiltier than you did."

"I do, Mom. He called me from Michigan and he's so miserable. Oh, Mommy, what will I do?" I pretended to cry.

She sighed. "Who told you?"

"David. And I want to talk to Dad, in person, about him."

"Darlene, you deserve to be punished, but I'm not that much of a sadist."

"I'll be home tomorrow."

"OK, it's your funeral. Luckily, I look stunning in black."

"Later, Mother."

"Later, Daughter."

So I went home and Mom wanted me to do a long, alphabetical list of chores, so that she'd be willing to help convince Dad, but he took me out for a sundae and then sledding, which we haven't done since I was like nine. It was like we're still pals and he wasn't at all mad that I shacked up with my boyfriend. But it was just him doing the denial thing. When I tried to talk him into taking David back, he blew his top. He blamed David for everything, like David corrupted me, like it wasn't my idea to have David move in. And I ended up starting on Mom's chore list after all.

I called David at Jackie's later, while I was doing the dishes. He wanted me to sneak out and meet up in the park, but it was hard to get past D.J. the spy. And Dad caught me grabbing my jacket, so I had to pretend that the basement was cold. Which it kind of is, but I don't mind.

Dad apologized for yelling at me and said that as far as he's concerned, the thing with David is over.

I joked, "Tell that to my baby." Yeah, thank God David never busted through a condom, like Fred did. This would be even more of a mess than it is.

Dad stayed up for an _F Troop_ marathon on Nick at Nite, so I couldn't get out of the house. I kept hoping I'd hear his snores when I snuck into the kitchen, but all I'd hear was "Agarn!"

After a couple hours, David tapped on the basement window. He was tired of waiting, so I invited him in, even though I knew that Dad didn't want David ever setting foot in the house again.

We had a minute or so of awkward conversation, and then he said, "I miss this room. I miss you. I still love you, Darlene."

"Yeah. Me, too," I admitted. I never stopped loving him, even when he said he didn't love me. It's just so hard and complicated between us. Living together was wrong, not for moral reasons, but because we're so different, and so young, and it was a studio apartment. But living without him is wrong, too.

I kissed him and pushed him back on the bed. I don't know if we would've had sex but I had to be close to him again.

Then my dad came in with an extra blanket. David and I sprung apart and off the bed. Dad grabbed David and pushed him against a wall, yelling, "What's the matter, boy? Can't keep your pants on?"

I was scared he was going to beat up David, like he beat up Fisher. Like what David did to me was like what Fisher to Jackie. Even though David is so sweet, so gentle.

I told Dad to stop and tried to tell him that it was my idea. I ended up telling David to go back to Jackie's, which at least deflected Dad's anger, towards Mom and Jackie. Mom tried to ground me, so I told Dad that Mom knew about David living with me in Chicago. Then I went over to Jackie's.

"This is not a home for wayward teens, you know," she said when she answered the door.

"I know. It's just for tonight. I can't deal with my parents right now."

She sighed. "OK. You can sleep on the couch."

I looked into the living room. "Sorry, David, I guess you're getting the tub tonight."

"I sleep in the nursery. Uh, not in the crib."

"Yeah, you're not that short."

"Please, enough of the flirtatious banter. You two are supposed to be exes."

"That's why we're not sharing the couch."

"Hey, I wouldn't mind," David said.

"OK, listen, you can both stay here, but, Darlene, you are not having sex with David tonight."

"Keeping him for yourself? That's cool."

She shook her head. "Darlene, you can borrow a sleepshirt and a robe if you want."

"No pink teddy? Oh, darn." I tried not to grin as David blushed.

"You, go change! You, we need to talk."

I was disappointed I'd miss whatever Jackie had to say to David, but I was sure he'd tell me later.

When I came back, Mom was there. I guess she drove over not long after I walked over, with snow on the ground. Mom acted like Jackie was making the living room into a honeymoon suite and she said that my punishment would not be having sex with my boyfriend, so of course I said, "Well, obviously you've never had sex with my boyfriend."

I love sex with David. I wouldn't go around telling people that, but I miss it. We haven't had much of it since before the New Year's party where I got back into pot. But I remember he was good, very good. Still, I don't know about starting up again. I mean, I'm not even sure we're really back together, at least not on the old terms.

We talked today, after Jackie left for work, as we sat on the folded-up couch.

"Are you going back to Chicago?"

I shook my head. "Not till this gets resolved."

"This?"

"You moving back there."

"It's really sweet of you to do this for me."

"Don't insult me. One thing I'm not is sweet."

"I think you are."

"You think I'm mean."

"Sometimes. But sometimes you're sweet. I mean, why else are you doing this?"

"Believe me, making you spend the rest of your adolescence with my parents is not an act of kindness."

"I like it there."

"Even without me?"  


"Not as much, but yeah."

"Even though my dad is a psychopath and my mom is, well, my mom."

"Yeah. And your dad usually isn't a psychopath. And he eventually accepted Mark having sex with Becky. So he'll forgive me."

"I think it was my mom that had the issue with Mark deflowering Becky."

"So why is your dad like this about you? I mean, you're the bad girl, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm also, how did Mom put it? Dad's cool son. I'm not supposed to let a boy mess up my life."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, you inspired me to go to college. That's pretty unforgivable."

"I almost stopped you from going."

"Yeah, but you were the reason I first wanted to go."

"Well, thanks."

"You're welcome. I don't know. Parents are weird about their kids having sex. I mean, look at your mom guarding your cherry from Becky's slutty sister."

"That was different. My mom doesn't like me. I think your dad doesn't want me taking you away where you can never shoot hoops again."

"I quit basketball long before I met you."

"You know what I mean."

"I guess. I don't know. I guess he wants to blame my growing up on you."

"That's crazy, you've always been your own person. You never listen to me."

"Sometimes I do."

"Yeah? Like with drugs?"

I winced. "Well, yeah. I don't know. I guess I felt like I wanted to try different things, and you just wanted everything to stay the same."

"Couldn't you have just gotten a piercing or something?"

"Maybe I will someday." I hesitated and then said, "David, I tried speed last weekend."

"Darlene!"

"Go ahead. Be judgmental. I'm guilty enough, I'll listen this time."

"Darlene, I care about you. Why do you have to hurt yourself like this?"

"Sometimes I feel too much."

"But that's part of being sensitive and artistic."

"Ugh, that makes it sound worse."

"Darlene, you are so brilliant. Don't blunt that."

I felt like crying. "It's all too much sometimes. Even your love was too much. Why couldn't you just be my horny boyfriend who couldn't keep his pants on?"

"Well, that's one side of me."

"Yeah, and there's also this too sweet, slightly obsessive boy. Who seems to live for me."

"I can't help it, Darlene. You make life so much more vivid. It's like it's black & white without you, and then you bring out all the colors."

"Jeez, David."

"Sorry for loving you."

"What happened to not loving me anymore?"

"Wishful thinking."

I nodded. "Yeah, it's hard to just shut it off. Even with drugs."

"Are you going to keep taking them?"

"No, I want a new drug. One that makes me feel like I feel when I'm with you. Love is the drug and I need to score."

"So you want to do karaoke?"

"Well, that's the natural progression, isn't it? Pot, acid, speed, karaoke."

"I think heroin is before karaoke."

I shook my head and then I kissed him.

He kissed back, but then he asked, "Are we back together?"

"Yes and no."

"OK."

"David, we can't live together, even if my parents would let us. It's not good for us."

"OK."

"And long-distance is hard, too. But so is not being together at all."

"What does that leave us?"

"It leaves us right now."

"OK."

We kissed some more, and stroked each other's hair and face.

"I really did miss you," he said.

"I missed you, too. Even when we were living together. I missed the way it used to be."

"I know."

I thought we'd talk some more about what we were going to be in the future, since we can't return to the past. But instead we started necking. I remembered how simple it used to be, when that was the furthest we'd go, because I wasn't ready for sex. And now I know what sex is like, so it's hard not to think about it, even when we're just at First Base.

His hand went under my shirt, well, Jackie's shirt, since I hadn't brought any extra clothes over, having just stormed out last night. He teased my chest with light touches, as I bit his neck.

"God, Darlene!"

"Oh, right, I shouldn't give you hickeys if we want my dad to take you back."

"Please don't talk about your parents right now."

"OK. How about my aunt?"

"Shut up," he said, but he chuckled.

Then I peeled off Jackie's shirt and leaned back against the cushions. David kissed down to my cleavage and unhooked my bra. Then he kissed my breasts tenderly.

"Missed you so bad," he murmured.

"Are you talking to me or the girls?"

"Both."

Then he started licking them, and then sucking them. I stroked his hair again.

After awhile, he looked up at my face and asked, "Do you wanna have sex?"

"Not this weekend. I already feel guilty about lying to my parents. Besides, I didn't bring a condom, did you?"

"Of course not, but maybe Jackie has some in her bedroom."

"I wouldn't trust whatever brand she uses."

"Oh, good point. Well, how far do you want to go? Heavy petting?"

"What is this, 1957? What does that even mean?"

"I think it's manual."

"Oh. Yeah, all right, but not on Jackie's couch."

"Well, I've been sleeping in the rocking chair, and I don't know how comfortable that would be to fool around on."

"Let's take a shower together."

"Really?" He always wanted to when he lived with me, but I always felt like there was never enough time. But we had this whole day to be together, until Jackie got home from work.

"Yeah, why not?"

So we went into the bathroom together and found a temperature we could agree on, warm since it's still February, but not too hot. We didn't soap each other up, since we'd already showered separately this morning. But we did caress each other, as the water ran down our bodies. And we kissed. After awhile, we necked and pressed our naked bodies together. I wondered what it would be like to have sex standing up, but I knew we couldn't do it without a condom.

David was really hard and he gasped, "God, I want you, Darlene!"

"Not yet," I said as my hand wrapped around his erection.

"Oh God!" And then his hand slipped between my legs.

We leaned against each other, so close it would've been easy to slip him inside me. Instead we tried to bring each other off manually. I succeeded first.

"So that's heavy petting," I said as I rinsed off my hand.

"What were you expecting? This?" He lightly tapped the front of my crotch with the palm of his hand.

"I think that's patting, not petting."

"Right. Petting should have more stroking."

Then he patted and stroked till he brought me off. It caught me off guard because there was no penetration.

"Damn, David!"

"You want me to go down on you?" he whispered in my ear.

For answer, I turned off the water. He grinned at me and got on his knees. But just then I heard from the hallway, "Hey, are you two having sex in there?"

I yelled, "Go away, D.J.!"

"I can't. Mom made me bring you guys lunch from the diner."

"OK, number one I'm a vegetarian, and number two, it's like 10 a.m."

"Please, Darlene. I can't leave until I hand it to you."

I sighed and signaled to David to be quiet. Then I told D.J., "Give me a minute." I got out of the shower, quickly toweled off, threw on Jackie's bathrobe, and opened the door a crack.

D.J. was in his busboy uniform. Mom's been making him work at the restaurant ever since he wrecked her car. He did indeed have two take-out boxes.

"Where's David?"

"He went for a walk." Jackie's house is pretty small and D.J. would be able to tell that David wasn't in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, or nursery.

"Oh, when's he coming back?"

"Why?"

"So Mom will know when to send me over with pie."

"D.J., please leave all future deliveries on the porch."

"You want me to lie to my own mother?"

"Of course."

He shrugged. "OK." I was surprised he didn't try for blackmail, but he was probably annoyed with her for making him walk through the snow so many times.

After D.J. left, David opened the shower curtain, asking a silent question with his eyebrows and tongue. If D.J. hadn't ruined the mood, I would've nodded, but instead I shook my head and said, "You're going to be dining from a different lunchbox."

We didn't fool around the rest of the day. And we didn't talk much, since I felt all talked out. We mostly snuggled on the couch and watched TV, occasionally getting up to bring in whatever D.J. had left for us outside.

Eventually Jackie came home and seemed relieved she didn't have to make us dinner. (I didn't have any loose meat, but I had some pie and chips. And I wasn't that hungry anyway.)

Dad came over later. We talked things out some, but he was actually there to bring David home. So my visit was a success, although I've still got to make amends to everyone, including maybe myself.


	21. Piercing

The only reason I agreed to the nose ring yesterday was that I thought of it as a symbol of commitment. Darlene and I were supposed to get matching rings, but her mom wouldn't let her. Darlene still expected me to get one, so she could live vicariously through me.

"I'll get one after I turn 18, but meanwhile I can look at your nose," she said as we waited for my turn.

It hurt, a lot, but I tried to be brave about it.

"Wow, that looks even cooler than I expected! Let's go home and work on the comic."

I blushed a little, although no one at the parlor knew that that's our euphemism for sex. It used to be we really did make comics together, although we'd get sidetracked into making out. But back then, we spent a lot of time together and she didn't care about school. Now I see her when she visits for the weekend, and our time alone is too precious to spend even on comics.

We're still not supposed to have sex in the house, and we can't do it in her room, since Mark and Becky moved into it. I have to sleep in D.J.'s room when Darlene is home, and then she gets the basement. I'd sneak downstairs but D.J. of course would rat me out. Darlene and I have tried to have sex in a car a couple times but it's really uncomfortable for anything beyond petting. So mostly she sneaks me into the basement when no one's home. If I'm ever caught coming back upstairs, I'm supposed to say that we were working on the comic, even though that's less plausible than when we were innocent little 15-year-olds. Well, relatively innocent.

No one was home. Her parents, Becky, and Mark were at work. (Mr. Conner hired Mark at the city garage. That's where Fred works. I guess if I were mechanically inclined, Mr. Conner would give me a job there, too.) D.J. was at church, since he's going through a religious phase.

We headed straight for the basement and soon Darlene was peeling off my clothes, murmuring about how sexy I am.

"If I'd known what a turn-on it'd be for you, I'd have gotten pierced years ago."

"I don't know, there's something about it. Maybe it's that it's a straight guy getting penetrated."

"You're not going to take out a strap-on, are you?"

"No, nothing that kinky today." Then she started giving me little love bites, just nibbles, not piercing the skin. She showed me all the spots where I could add jewelry, from my earlobes and my lips on down.

I didn't tell her that I didn't even want the piercing I have. I was enjoying her lips and, very gently, her teeth on my bare skin too much to say anything beyond, "God, Darlene, so good!" and things like that.

She stopped using her teeth and started using her tongue more when she got to the blowjob. When I go down on her, I feel like I'm worshipping her, but when she goes down on me, we both know that she's making me helpless with pleasure. Yet it is a form of love, the way Darlene loves me. Molly might've done it with more skill, but she could never have made me come with my whole self. (I'll never find out, since the Tildens moved away almost a year ago.)

After I got my breath back, I started tenderly undressing Darlene. And as I went along, I teased, "When you turn 18, will you get pierced here? Or here?" But my nibbles were much gentler and more teasing than hers, with more kisses and licks mixed in.

I ended up between her legs, lightly, gently, teasingly at first. But eventually I pierced her with my tongue and fingers, till she begged me to put on a condom. I did and then climbed on top, piercing her again and again with my hardness.

I don't keep track of orgasms anymore, but I meant it when I told Mark a few weeks ago that I can satisfy Darlene. Believe me, Darlene is not the kind of girl to humor a guy in bed, our second time aside. She makes it clear, even through her cynicism, that I'm a good lover. "And I don't just mean an A for effort, although you definitely get that, too," she said one time in the early days in Chicago.

I did get jealous and worried the time she got a ride back to Chicago from Dean, this guy Becky went out with during her break-up with Mark. Dean is a big, handsome, blond football player, and they say girls always marry guys like their fathers.

But when I asked her about it later, she said, "Dean's a nice guy, but I've never really been that into jocks. I might admire one, but they don't turn me on. They're too sane and normal I guess. I go for sensitive artists with crazy hair."

Then we attempted sex in the backseat. It is better in bed, although I still want to try it in the shower someday.

Yesterday afternoon was wonderful, being back in that bed, back in Darlene. Sometimes when we're doing it, I think about all the times I've jerked off in that bed, fantasizing about doing what we're now doing, and that excites me even more.

This time, she scratched my back and whispered, "I touched myself last night, imagining this."

So I pierced her faster and deeper, until I came and I'm sure she did, too.

At dinner, D.J. said he disapproves of me and Darlene having sex out of wedlock. Well, I'd marry her tomorrow, if we weren't so young, and if living together hadn't been such a disaster. I was going to explain that sex is a form of love, because isn't that what religion is all about, love? But Darlene told me to stop talking, sort of like when I wanted to explain to her father about our "tenderness," and he cut me off.

I offered to sacrifice my piercing, if D.J. thought it was vandalism of the holy temple of my body, but he said he just wants me to stop having sex. My religious tolerance has its limits though.

Before she left today, Darlene said, "You really don't like the nose ring, do you?"

"Well, no. Sorry."

She shrugged. "Well, it is your body. Even if a certain part acts like I own it."

I of course got an erection, right there at the bus stop.

She smiled wickedly as she put her hand on my shirt over my chest. "I mean your heart of course." But she tweaked my nipple through the cloth.

"It's really unfair of you to do things when I can't retaliate in public."

"I guess you'll have to wait till the next time we work on the comic."

The bus came along then, and she gave me a quick kiss before riding away, leaving me weighed down by our mutual friend, and Cupid's piercing.


	22. Jimmy

I'm only seventeen and a half. Why do people pressure me about getting married and having a baby someday? Not my parents. They're still getting used to Becky's marriage after almost two years. But at Jackie's wedding last week, everyone made a big deal out of my catching the bouquet, even though I was one of the few single women in the living room.

And David wants a baby. I know he's been thinking about it ever since my cousin Andy was born. I know he doesn't mean becoming a father right now. He's still in high school and he'll have to repeat senior year after missing so much, even before he went to Chicago. But he recently talked about how he can stay home and raise any kids I'll bear, if I ever change my mind about not liking kids. He wants me to have a career. Which is sweet and supportive, but I don't want to think about all that yet. Maybe someday, like when I'm Jackie's age and I've had a chance to live my life, but that's twenty years away. I don't want to end up like my mom, like Becky, marrying the first guy I seriously dated. Especially not if that means an adulthood in Lanford.

David did say he loves me enough to be with me forever even if we don't have children, but what if he changes his mind? About kids, about me. I can't ask for that kind of commitment.

And all this was running through my mind when my friend, Beth, from the literary journal said, "Hey, do you want to go to a dance recital?"

"Why? Is your kid sister performing?"

"No, it's on campus tonight and I've got an extra ticket."

"Gee, thank you but I don't think so."

"Come on, cute guys in tights?"

I shrugged. "OK, there's nothing good on TV tonight."

I figured the guys would be gay, so it would be harmless to look at them. David wouldn't feel threatened if he heard about it.

It was mostly girls anyway, but one of the guys was really cute, with long hair and sideburns, light brown. And yeah, he looked good in a leotard and tights. Beth knew one of the girls in the show and she introduced us to him after. His name was Jimmy Gartner and he had two piercings in each ear, so I complimented him on those.

"Thanks. And thanks for not saying you enjoyed the show."

"It was OK," I said.

"Not into ballet, huh? That's cool. I wasn't either till my boxing coach suggested I do it to improve my footwork."

"Oh, you box?"

"Yeah, it's how I pay for school."

"Oh. I work in the campus bookstore and have a scholarship. And my dad gives me an allowance."

"Darlene, it's getting late. We should head out."

"OK, Beth. Nice meeting you, Jimmy."

"You, too, Darlene."

It wasn't till after we left that Beth said, "Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"So I'm not allowed to talk to other guys? And you're the one who was telling me to ogle cute guys."

"Ogling is different than talking."

"That wasn't exactly pillow talk."

"I know you, Darlene. You don't flirt like normal girls."

I shook my head. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

But then the next day, Jimmy showed up at the bookstore and asked, "So do you get an employee discount?"

"Why? You want me to pass it on to you? You look more like a shoplifter."

"Thanks. So do you want to get coffee?"

"With you? Why?"

"You're cute."

I actually blushed, and I never blush. "You're very direct."

"So are you. So yes or no?"

"Um, yes. But just coffee."

"No biscotti? OK."

We arranged to meet in a couple hours at the coffeehouse a block from campus. I figured that'd be safe enough.

He paid for both coffees. "Don't worry, this doesn't mean you have to sleep with me."

"Hey, you'd have to at least buy me dinner. Coffee won't get you more than a French kiss."

"What if I throw in the biscotti?"

"A handjob."

"Hey, barista!"

I snickered.

"So what's your story, Darlene?"

"Just a small-town girl living in a lonely world."

"So you're on a journey?"

"You're pretty sharp for a boxer."

"I try not to get punched in the head."

"Good strategy. So what are you majoring in, besides beating other guys to a pulp?"

"Undeclared. I might do dance, but I don't like to make up my mind too early."

"Then why did you ask me out so soon?"

"To help me make up my mind about asking you on a real date."

"Slow down, Jimbo. You should know I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah? What's his major?"

"Um, high school," I mumbled.

"Ah, you're a cradle-robber."

"No, he's two months older than I am, but I got into college early and, um, he's going to repeat his senior year."

"Did he get punched in the head?"

"No, it's a long story." I didn't want to tell him about David living with me.

"OK. So how serious are you two?"

"Pretty serious."

"Then what are you doing here with me?"

"Free coffee, what else?"

"Of course. So are you two monogamous?"

"You are direct."

"Yeah. So?"

I blushed as I said, "He's my first serious boyfriend."

"That's not what I asked."

"Look, if you're looking for an easy lay, there are probably some phone numbers in the men's room. And there's a few carved into this table."

"Thanks. But that's not what this is."

"What is it?"

"I think you're cute and interesting."

"You don't know me."

"I've read your writing in the literary journal. You're really good. And really bitter. I like that."

"Well, thanks."

"You're welcome. If you get your boyfriend's permission, I'd like to go out with you. And not just for sex."

"Is this some sort of challenge to you, hitting on girls with boyfriends?" I thought of Molly going after David last year.

"No, I'd be attracted to you even if you were single."

"Great."

He took out a pen and wrote on a napkin. "Here's my number. Call if you want. And if not, I'll understand."

"Listen, Slick, if I don't call, it won't be because of David. It'll be because I don't want to go out with you."

"Then just say no now and you can save us both some time."

"No, I think I'll let you wait and wonder."

"A direct tease. Cool." He clinked his coffee cup against mine, except that they were paper so they didn't make much sound.

"Tell me something, Jimbo. Let's say I went out with you. Would you expect me to break up with David?'

"David is the hometown guy, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he lives back in Podunk and I'm in Chicago. So there's no reason why you couldn't date both of us."

"You'd be OK with that?"

"Why not? It's not like I want to marry you. I just want to spend some time with you. What difference does it make what you're doing when I'm not with you?"

"And what would you be doing when I'm not around? Screwing other girls?"

"If I met any that interested me as much as you do, why not?"

I shook my head. "You big city boys and your wild ways."

"I'm from Elgin."

"Compared to Lanford, that is the big city."

"Oh, you're from Lanford? Never mind."

I cracked up. I'd never met anyone outside the family with a sense of humor like mine.

I'm going home for the summer this weekend and I haven't decided what to do about Jimmy, or about David. I am attracted to Jimmy. I haven't seen him again, but I did call to say that I wasn't sure if I was going to call. Then we talked for an hour, mostly about books and music. When he tried to change the subject to David or my family, I deflected it. I definitely didn't want to tell him that my boyfriend lives with my parents, or that he's my sister's brother-in-law.

I do want to go out with him. It'd be great to just date, not get bogged down in emotions, like I did with David from the very beginning. And I like Jimmy. I feel comfortable with him, but at the same time he keeps me on my toes.

Still, I love David. I've never stopped, not even when we've fought, like when he said that having babies is every woman's obligation. Not even when we've broken up. He's so sweet and wonderful, and I don't want to hurt him. He would probably be hurt that I've even considered going out with someone else. I know he got jealous over Dean, who I wasn't even interested in.

And, yeah, I probably seem like a hypocrite, considering how jealous I got over Molly. But that was different. She was a boyfriend-stealer, who acted like a nice girl in front of adults. Jimmy smokes and doesn't pretend to be innocent. He's complicated, paradoxical, but at the same time, I think what you see is what you get with him.

Also, this is hard for me because I didn't really date before David, Brian's fumbling fondling aside. How can I make a lifetime commitment to David, like he wants, without knowing what any other man is like? I mean, I don't need to do sixty, like Jackie did. (Apparently, Fred has been with only three women, but I don't know if that includes Jackie.) And I don't know that I'll necessarily have sex with Jimmy, but I would like to at least kiss him.

I won't do anything with him until I talk to David. I'm not going to cheat on David. And if he's not comfortable with me dating someone else, I won't. Jimmy isn't worth losing David over.  


I don't think Jimmy would say what David said, that he'd still want to be my friend, even if we didn't date. That was different. David was my best friend and we'd known each other for awhile. And I don't know if Jimmy does platonic friendship. Probably not with girls he's attracted to.

One thing I know, I'm definitely not confiding in Mom about this. Becky, maybe. At least she had a date with Dean, plus her pre-Mark boyfriends. Now that I think of it, one of them was Jimmy Meltrigger, a linebacker, but she left him for Johnny Swanko, the Tongue Bandit. This Jimmy is very different, but maybe he's a Tongue Bandit.

God, I need to talk to David soon!


	23. Plans

I had a lot of plans for my summer with Darlene, but now everything's changed.

We had the house to ourselves this afternoon and I said, "So, uh, do you want to work on the comic?"

She sighed and turned off the TV with the remote. "David, I need to talk to you."

"Oh, yeah, sure. We don't have to go to bed right away. I miss talking to you, too." I stroked her hair.

"Don't be sweet right now."

"I'm sorry." I moved my hand away.

"David, I know you want to spend the rest of your life with me. But I'm not ready for that."

"Darlene, I don't expect to get married yet. Or even engaged. Don't worry."

"David, I, I had coffee with another guy."

I smiled. "Darlene, I'm not one of those jealous, possessive boyfriends. You're allowed to have male friends."

"He's not just a friend."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Of course not."

"Did you kiss him?"

"No. Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"I, he asked me out. "

"What did you say?"

"I said I needed to talk to my boyfriend."

"So, are you asking my permission?"

"Not exactly. But I'm not going to do anything if you're not OK with it."

"What about him? Is he OK with it? Or does he expect you to break up with me?"

"No, no, he understands that I'm serious about you."

"If you're serious about me, why do you need someone else?"

"Because, David, I spend most of my time in Chicago. I have a life there."

"You didn't seem to want a boyfriend to be part of that life when it was me."

She shook her head. "Look, I like him, but if this is too weird for you, then forget it."

"Great, and then you'll resent me."

"No, I understand."

"Darlene, look." I stroked her arm. "Is this what you want? To date both of us?"

"Well, yeah. I still love you and I don't want to lose you. But I do wonder what I might lose by never giving the other guy a chance."

"I don't want to lose you either. And I want you to be with me because you want to be, not because you feel trapped."

"OK."

"When are you going to see him again?"

"Not till I go back to school."

"That's two and a half months away. Why don't we just say that you'll date him in the fall, and meanwhile we'll be together."

"You mean it?"

I kissed her cheek. "I do." That would give me all summer to make her forget about this guy.

"You're so sweet." She kissed me on the lips.

"So do you want to work on the comic?"

"I don't think we should have sex."

"Why not?"

"Because sex confuses me."

"You just have to spread your legs."

"Ha. I mean it messes up my brain. And I don't know where things are going with Jimmy."

"Jimmy?"

"Yeah, that's the other guy's name."

"Are you going to have sex with Jimmy in the fall?"

"I don't know. I don't even know yet if he's a good kisser."

"So maybe we shouldn't even kiss."

"No, we can kiss."

"OK. What about necking?"

"Sure."

"Petting?"

"Light or heavy?"

"Either."

"Definitely light. That's like chests, right?"

"I think so."

"OK. And maybe heavy petting. We'll see."

I felt like she'd just rolled the clock back a year and a half, except now it's not because she's nervous about sex but because she's met another guy. I still want to marry her, have kids with her, so I'm going to try to play the long game. She can get this Jimmy guy out of her system and then she can concentrate on us, the way it should be.

Not that I'm not upset, but I can't let her know that. "Have you talked to anyone about this yet?"

She shook her head. "Just my friend Beth, at school."

"Are you going to tell your family?"

"Yeah, starting with D.J."

"No, really."

She shrugged. "Probably not my parents. My dad's still adjusting to the fact that I lived with you, had sex with you. And you know Mom, she has to butt into everything."

I know Mrs. Conner would take my side and it's tempting to tell her, but Darlene would probably never forgive me, and then I'd definitely lose her to Jimmy. "Yeah, we're adults. Well, practically. We can work this out without her."

"Exactly. I might tell Becky, but she'd probably tell Mark, and then he'd tell Royal, and Roy would tell Mom."

"Yeah, let's just keep this to ourselves. At least for now." I don't want Mark to know, since he'd probably say it's because I can't satisfy Darlene.

"Yeah, and this thing with Jimmy might not go anywhere."

"Well, we'll see. You should at least give him a chance."

"You really are sweet." And then she started making out with me on the couch.

We ended up heavy petting in the basement. She's sleeping down there this summer, like she did on weekends after Mark and Becky moved in. I wish we could have sex, but at least we didn't break up. And I'll try to make her come as much as I can from Third Base.

I'm not really sure why petting is OK with her and sex isn't. I mean, yeah, sex is the ultimate symbol of commitment, but if she's trying to keep a clear head, I probably shouldn't even play with her breasts. Maybe she's worried I'd try to get her pregnant. But I'm still a high school loser without a job. And I know that if I tried to trap her like that, she'd hate me. She'd probably get an abortion and/or leave me.

My plan is to be as sweet and understanding as I can, since Jimmy is probably some art school hipster who's above emotions. Like Darlene. Oh shit.

I think I'll also try to get her to work on the comic, I mean really work on it, not as a euphemism. That was what first brought us together, and our troubles started when we stopped creating together. She'll have the time to write the comic while she's out of school. And I can present it as something that will keep her imagination in shape while she's on vacation.

I know, I could work on my portfolio, include some things from the comics in there. I could still try to apply to her school for the fall. But if she's going to date Jimmy, I don't know if I want to be around to see it. Besides, I kind of want to finish at Lanford High, even though my classmates graduated last week. As Mrs. Conner said the other day, "Someone from this house should actually get their diploma there, and I can't wait ten years for D.J."

It's all about the long-range plans.


	24. Green Lantern

I didn't give Jimmy my phone number in Lanford. Can you imagine anyone from this household answering? Or Jackie, who still drops by a lot, despite her marriage and baby. Even if I happened to answer, it would not be a conversation I'd want anyone to listen in on. So I got a p.o. box and wrote to him using that as my address. (The old p.o. box that I had with David was something we let lapse after I got accepted by the Chicago art school. It had served its purpose.) Obviously, I didn't want him writing to me at the house. That'd be even riskier than the phone. On the phone, he could've maybe passed himself off as just a friend from school, but if Mom or D.J. or just about anybody got ahold of a letter, whether or not it was a "love letter," I would be in deep shit. So once or twice a week this summer, I've been going to the post office, sending and receiving correspondence from my pen pal.

It's been fun, getting to know Jimmy this way, old-fashioned I guess but nice. And I'm good with words, better on paper than out loud sometimes. Jimmy has a nice style, a dry sense of humor, a little flirty but not gushy. We share likes and dislikes, a little about ourselves, although I hold some back, because so much is stuff I'm not ready to share with someone I've seen in person only a couple times.

His latest letter was different:

_Hey Darlene,_

_I know I'll see you in a couple weeks when we head back to Chicago, but I want to talk to you in person first. I'll be in Lanford this coming weekend, Friday to Sunday. I've booked a room at the Green Lantern Motel, which I figure is a good omen, since you're into comics, right? Let me know if you can't or won't meet me there. No pressure, sexual or otherwise, I swear. I understand that Lanford is where your boyfriend lives, and you and I haven't even kissed yet. Whatever you're comfortable with. I just want to check in with you._

_Take it easy,_  
_Jimmy_

At least he didn't say, "I miss you," like David would. I don't know if I've missed Jimmy, but I do want to see him. The question is how. I don't know if I can get over there without anyone noticing. This is Thursday. I've got to decide soon.

Tonight though, I'm going to play Monopoly with David and D.J. David and I have been "petting" this summer. I feel like I don't want to get back into sex until I know what I want to do about either David or Jimmy. Maybe I will date both of them. Maybe I'll even have sex with both of them (not at the same time). But I need to sort things out. This way, David and I have very safe "sex," orgasms but no risk of pregnancy or disease. Tonight, however, I don't even want to make out with David. Not until I talk to Jimmy. So I've talked David into Monopoly, with D.J. as chaperone. David's going along with it, like he's going along with my dating Jimmy in the fall. I'm not sure what he really thinks, but he says he wants me to be happy, and he hasn't whined or guilt-tripped, so I guess he's OK with it. Still, I'm not going to tell him if I go to the Green Lantern. It's more considerate to spare him.

...

"Hey," Jimmy said when he opened the door

"Hey."

"I wasn't sure if you were gonna show up."

"Me neither." I had to wait till everyone was out of the house, including David, who said he was going to see _Forrest Gump_ this afternoon. He invited me of course, but I said, "I'll pass. I don't want to spend two and a half hours with an idiot. Not you, I mean Forrest."

"Yeah, I got that," David said.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Jimmy now said. "Come on in."

"Thanks."

He closed the door behind me and then said, "So should we hug or what?"

"Cheek kisses I think. Face cheeks I mean."

He nodded. And then he kissed my cheek.

I stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. I'm going to have to get used to the height difference.

He sat on the foot of the bed, so I pulled up a chair. "How have you been?" he asked.

"All right. You?"

"OK. It's weird being back with my family. They don't really understand me."

"Mine unfortunately do."

He chuckled. "Yeah? Do you get along with your parents?"

"I guess. I'm my dad's 'cool son.' We shoot hoops sometimes and we watch sports together. We're buddies I guess."

"And your mom?"

I hesitated and then I quietly said, "She's dead." I know, I shouldn't have said that, especially if I expect any kind of future with Jimmy. But I just didn't want to get into that whole big dysfunctional relationship. Besides, this visit to Lanford aside, Jimmy will be in Chicago and he doesn't need to know about my overcrowded household. (Which is going to get even more overcrowded soon, since Mom is pregnant. Yes, at 42!)

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

"It's OK."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I was little when it happened and Dad has raised us on his own ever since."

"So you've got brothers and sisters?"

"One of each." I decided I wouldn't kill off Becky or D.J., tempting though it was.

"Yeah? I'm an only child."

"Lucky you."

"Thanks. So am I going to get to meet your family?"

"Not yet. I mean, we haven't even had a date yet. And my dad can be overprotective sometimes."

"OK. Does he like whatshisname, David?"

"They get along OK."

"What does he think about you dating someone else?"

"I haven't told anyone. Well, David."

"And he's cool with it? David I mean."

"Yeah, I think so. But you're kind of invading his territory, Lanford I mean."

"Sorry about that, but I figured it was easier than inviting you to Elgin. And we do need to talk some stuff out."

"Like what?"

"Well, you said in your letters that we can date in the fall. But what does that include?"

"Candy and flowers of course. Maybe you serenading me with a mandolin."

"Uh huh."

"I don't know, Jimmy. Are you asking how far we'll go?"

"I guess, yeah."

"I, I'm not ruling anything out, but I'm not promising anything."

"OK. Can I ask if you've had sex with David?"

"Not recently, but I've had it."

"So we should use condoms."

"Weren't you planning to anyway? I mean, I know you're not a virgin."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you don't act like one."

"I could just be very self-confident. But, no, I'm not. It's been awhile for me, but I tested negative for everything last week. Still, yeah, condoms are fine. Do you use anything else?"

"Like what? A hazmat suit?"

"I meant more like the Pill, or a diaphragm, or the sponge, or something."

"No, I haven't, but I could." I probably should, if I do end up having sex with both of my boyfriends, I mean if Jimmy becomes my boyfriend, then it'll be more important than ever that I not get pregnant.

"OK."

"I hope you realize how weird it is that we're having this conversation when we haven't even kissed, except on the cheek."

"I already know I want to have sex with you when you're ready. But if you want to kiss now, we can."

So I got up and sat next to him on the bed. And we kissed. Once I got past the idea that I was kissing someone other than David, I enjoyed it. Jimmy is a good kisser, experienced but adaptable to my style. I did feel guilty but I reminded myself that this wasn't cheating. David had said he was OK with my seeing Jimmy in Chicago. I was just a little ahead of schedule.

"That was nice," he said.

"Yeah. Thanks for not smoking."

"I wanted to taste good for our first kiss."

"What if we hadn't kissed?"

"Then I'd smoke after you left."

"Do you smoke after sex?"

"Not if I use lube."

I nodded. "You've heard that one."

"I've heard them all." Then he kissed me again.

All we did this afternoon was talk and kiss. But I know I'm going to try to go back to the Green Lantern again before he leaves town. And if I don't get the chance, well, I'll see him in Chicago soon. Tonight though, I'll probably play Monopoly again. David lets me be the hat and D.J. is the banker.


	25. Break-Up #4

It's over with Darlene, really over, and there's no making up this time. I feel like this break-up came in stages, deeper and deeper, pulling us further and further apart.

All summer, I tried to be patient with her about Jimmy. In some ways, it was easy because she was with me, in the house, in my arms. I could pretend that she was still all mine, not 50%. She never mentioned Jimmy, maybe to spare me, but I could pretend it was because she was forgetting about him. Out of sight, out of mind.

Mrs. Conner wanted me to stand up for myself, but I was going to wait, let this play out. And then Darlene had to break the rules we set up and meet Jimmy in a motel. She said later that she's not sleeping with him and she doesn't know if she will, but it was still killing me. She and I hadn't slept together in months, and I've been trying to be patient about that, too.

Finally, I made her choose, like Mrs. Conner said I should. And Darlene chose Jimmy. I offered to take her back if she slept with him and didn't like it. After all, if she wants to explore other relationships, I can wait for her.

But that's not what she wants. She wants Jimmy, not me. She spoke of us in the past tense, "each other's first love," even though she knows I still love her and that Jimmy can never love her that much.

I called her a cold-hearted bitch. How could she hurt me like this? I had to hurt her back, if she's even capable of being hurt.

I spent the next couple days crying off and on. I even cried on Mr. Conner. He's not much more into emotions than my own father, or Mark, but he is a better listener. Well, Mark tried to comfort me I guess, by saying Darlene was a bitch and I could get much hotter girls. I just want Darlene back. I remember the times when she wasn't bitchy. The good times, before she started taking drugs.

And I ended up telling Mrs. Conner about Darlene taking drugs. I know, it was stupid, but I was desperate. And Mrs. Conner was going to keep her from going back to Chicago. Darlene would stay here, where we could look after her. I figured she could go to Lanford CC, like Becky is this fall. She'd forget about art school and Jimmy. We'd make up and it'd be like before, only better because we'd have learned from our mistakes.

But I overdid it. I told Mrs. Conner I'd keep an eye on Darlene, and she decided I was just out for revenge since Darlene dumped me. And, OK, maybe that was part of it. But I said I was desperate. And it wasn't all bad. I felt guilty that I hadn't protected Darlene last winter. Maybe if I'd stood up to her more about the drugs, she wouldn't have gotten into them as much. Then again, maybe she'd have seen me as a nag and just wanted to rebel against me. I don't know. Anyway, Mr. Conner says that he believes that Darlene has really given up drugs. I hope so.

I tried to apologize to Darlene when she left for Chicago. But she said, "I'm sorry I didn't dump your ass sooner," and walked out the door.

This hurts so bad! And, yeah, OK, she's a bitch, but I handled this all so badly. Some of it's my fault. It's just, what was I supposed to do instead? Forbid her to see Jimmy when she first asked me? What if she rebelled against that?

She told me, "People who don't explore other relationships end up becoming my parents." I can think of a lot worse fates. Her parents still love each other after more than 25 years. They've built a life together, had three, soon to be four kids together, shared life's ups and downs. And they still make each other laugh, still "move furniture" together. What's wrong with that?

The problem is, Darlene has never wanted her mother's life. She doesn't want to be stuck in Lanford. And my trying to keep her here is something she really resents. It's not that I love Lanford, but I'm happier than she is. Chicago might've been fun if we'd had more money and I'd had more of a life of my own.

Well, it doesn't matter anymore. She's going to be happy, as much as she's capable of being happy, with Jimmy. She wouldn't tell me much about him, other than he's taller than I am, which I can't do anything about, unless I get a growth spurt, and I'm eighteen now so it's probably too late for that. It's probably his personality, or what I imagine his personality to be. Probably more like hers. I used to think we were so much alike, and that our differences complemented each other, like my enthusiasm and her cynicism, my art and her writing. I bet he's a writer. It would kill me if he were an artist, especially if he were better than I am, which he probably would be, since the art school accepted him and not me. And I don't even want to think about if he's a better lover.

God, I feel like crying again! At least I've got the basement bedroom back and don't have to keep from crying myself to sleep in front of D.J.


	26. Another Night

I spent the night with Jimmy. And I don't mean like I spent the night with David when we did the comic in the dark with flashlights.

I know, this happened much more quickly than with David, but I'm older and more experienced now. And I was curious what it would be like with someone else.

I didn't plan to do it last night. But Jimmy came over so we could study for our one class together. And it wasn't like doing homework with David, where we always gave up on it and made out, if we had privacy. There was no chance of being interrupted, unless Mom called to check up on me, which she has been doing more, but because of drugs, not sex. (I'm staying clean so far this semester.)

Jimmy and I finished studying and then we made out. There was no reason to stop after kissing or necking, or touching each other's chest.

He has a good body, more athletic than David's of course, but not muscle-bound. Wiry I guess.

I haven't been to a gynecologist yet, so all I have are condoms. I guess I felt like there was no hurry because I wasn't sure if I was going to have sex with Jimmy. But it looks like this might be a regular thing, so I'll make an appointment soon.

Jimmy and I didn't really discuss it much, beyond every major step along the way he'd ask, "Is this OK?" And I'd either say, "Yes, keep going," or have him slow down until I was ready to move on. I appreciated him asking, and listening to my answers, but I was aware that it wasn't at all like with David. We didn't talk about what any of this meant. No one said, "I love you," or even "I really want you." We asked each other if it felt good, but physically, not emotionally.

I wouldn't say it was empty. It wasn't like doing it with a stranger. (Or so I imagine.) We like each other. But I didn't have the burden that Jimmy can't live without me. We had fun, the way sex is supposed to be, right?

That's not to say we might not get closer when we know each other better. But it'll be more rational, less dramatic.

I will admit there were moments when I thought about a guy who's not David being inside me, a guy who's not David making me come. But I think that's inevitable your first time with your second. I doubt Jackie flips through her mental Rolodex of sixty men every time she has sex with Fred.

We had a quickie in the morning, but we both had things to do today, classes and work. This semester, I'm no longer at the bookstore. I got a job at the campus radio station, mostly behind the scenes although I might be willing to be d.j. (the role, not my freaky brother) if it were a shift where hardly anyone listens.

I sort of miss the bookstore, since it reminds me of when my best friend right before David was a middle-aged bookstore owner. On the other hand, it's nice not to have to deal with customers. That was my least favorite part of working at Buy & Bag. I can't do that phony politeness like Becky can. If I were a disc jockey, I would probably never take requests

I know, I've changed the subject from sex with Jimmy. Well, it was good, but I've never been one to get hung up on a guy, or on sex. And that's not going to change now. OK, I'll tell you that I was on top last night, and then he was on top this morning so he could come faster. And then he finished me off manually in the shower.


	27. Talking, Thinking, Dreaming

It started three days ago. Becky and I were both studying in the kitchen, when Mark said, "Awww, look at the two schoolgirls. Isn't that cute?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Becky snapped.

"Ignore him," I muttered.

"I should. It would only be fair."

Mark shook his head and said, "I'm out of here."

"Have fun at Roy's," she said cheerfully, but she burst into tears as soon as she heard him slam the door behind him.

"Um, do you want to talk about it?" I offered. I'm at the point where I'm not crying every day myself.

"It's really personal."

"Oh, OK." I tried to go back to studying.

But then after a minute she said, "Um, David, did Darlene ever, um, withhold herself?"

"Yeah, there's parts of herself she doesn't like to talk about. It's hard for her to open up to people."

"Well, I know that. She's my sister after all. But I meant, um, physically."

"Oh. Um, well, we didn't have sex all summer, but that was because she was interested in Jimmy. Bad example, I'm sorry."

"It's OK."

"Before that, um, yeah, sometimes if we were fighting about something. And in the beginning, but that wasn't really withholding. She was just nervous because she was a virgin."

"I don't think that's Mark's problem."

"Have you been fighting about other stuff?"

"Well, yeah, like about me having the light on to study when he's trying to sleep."

"Sleep is important. But so is school. Um, how long has it been since he, um, was interested?"

"Five weeks."

"Well, and that's around the time you started at Lanford CC, right?"

"Hm, you may have something there. But he wanted me to go to school. When I wanted him to go to trade school, because it'd be faster, he thought I should be the one going to school."

"Well, no offense, but you were the A student, not him."

"Yeah. But why would it bother him now that I'm going?"

"He probably feels insecure, like you're moving away from him by entering a world he can't enter."

"Wow, you're probably right. But I still love him. Can't he see that?"

"This is his problem. He's got to work it through."

"Could you talk to him about it?"

"Sorry, Becky, but Mark and I hardly ever talk about anything, especially feelings, especially his feelings."

She nodded. "Yeah, it's been years since Darlene and I really talked. Well, she told me about you living with her in Chicago, but I guess she's still mad that Mom found out about that. How was I supposed to know Mark would tell Roy? I mean, they never talk about anything but TV or beer."

"It's OK. It's probably for the best that I moved back here. Darlene was meant to have the art-school life and I wasn't."

"Oh, David, that's not true. You're really talented."

"Well, thanks. But I mean all those hip big-city people. That's not me."

"It's not really Darlene either, but she's so cynical that almost no one intimidates her."

"I don't know about that." I thought about the drugs and how she hates being sensitive.

"Do you miss her?"

I nodded. "Mrs. Conner wants me to go out with other girls, but I'm just not ready."

"You need time to heal. Even though you weren't always happy with Darlene, you really loved her, and that's got to hurt."

I felt like crying, but just nodded again.

"This is really nice."

"What? Talking about how miserable we are?"

"No, just talking. I can think of you as a friend now, not just my brother-in-law, or Darlene's ex." 

"Yeah, it is nice." I realized, neither of us has anyone to talk to like this. No one knows us that well, and is willing to listen. Well, other than Mrs. Conner, but she likes to try to solve problems, and sometimes I just want to be heard, not have things fixed. Besides, Mrs. Conner, well, I'll get to that.

Two days ago, Becky and I decided to get coffee together. OK, I don't really like coffee, but she said I could have tea. Betty Fuller wants to have coffee with me, but according to Mrs. Conner, that's girl-code for sex.

With Becky, I don't have to worry about things like that. We could drink warm beverages and talk without worrying about interruptions from her family, or my brother.

We sat for three hours in the one coffeehouse in Lanford, talking and drinking. Oh, and we had biscotti, her treat.

One thing we talked about was kids.

"One reason why it's upsetting that Mark isn't in the mood is that I really want to have a baby."

"Oh, wow, a baby!"

"Do you think I'm too young?"

"No, you're twenty. Your mom was twenty-two, right? That's not much older."

"Yeah, but she never tried to go college."

"Would you drop out or what?"

"I'm not sure. It would depend when it happens. Maybe I could still do night school, if I could get a sitter."

"I'm good with kids. Well, except D.J."

"D.J. is the exception for everyone. Yeah, that'd be great if you could watch the baby, if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind? It'd be my niece or nephew."

"Well, I can't imagine Darlene offering, even if she were in Lanford."

"Darlene gets nervous around babies."

"Yeah, I've noticed. God knows what she'll do when Mom has her baby."

"I guess it's just as well we broke up."

"So you want kids?"

"Yeah, definitely. I mean, not for a few years of course. For one thing, I'd have to find someone new and I'm not ready to even go to the movies."

"You're only 18. You've got lots of time."

"Yeah. Is it awful that part of me still hopes that Darlene will get tired of Jimmy and she'll come home and we'll get married and she'll decide she wants kids after all?"

"I don't think it's awful. That's part of what happens with a break-up. Well, at least that's what I've heard. All my boyfriends before Mark, I was kind of glad to see them go. But if Mark and I got divorced, there would always be the part of me that would wish that things had worked out."

"Have you thought about divorce?"

"Sometimes. But I think that's part of marriage."

"How sad!"

She shrugged. "Thinking isn't the same as acting on it."

"I guess."

We didn't get back till ten, so we just said goodnight and I went down to the basement, while she went up to her husband. I hoped that she would talk things out with him soon. He doesn't realize how lucky he is to have a sweet, understanding girl like Becky. He recognizes she's pretty, but there's so much more to her. I was really glad I got a chance to get to know her better recently.

And then I fell asleep and had a sex dream, of her mother! I know how disgusting that is, believe me. Especially since I think of Mrs. Conner as more my mother than my real mother, who hasn't called since I moved here, moved out, and moved back, not even for my birthdays. But there I was sinking into all that warm, inviting flesh. Sorry, sorry! I know.

I never think of her that way when I'm awake. And I say that as someone who's been turned on by a wide variety of women. Hell, back in February, when I was staying with Miss Harris, I dreamed about her, and it was specifically because I thought she was hitting on me.

(That dream took the form of _The Graduate_ , which I'd recently seen on TV. She was dressed like Anne Bancroft but still very pregnant. And I was dressed like a young Dustin Hoffman. At least it wasn't the sex parts of the movie, which wasn't that explicit anyway, but it still added to my discomfort while staying there. Even when I admitted to Darlene that very awkward conversation, I couldn't tell her about the dream.)

I know, you can't help what you dream. If thoughts aren't the same as actions, then dreams definitely aren't. But I lost a lot of sleep over the Mrs. Conner dream, that night and then the next, because I was afraid to go to sleep. (Just like I was afraid to shower at Miss Harris's, because I didn't want her to walk in on me.) It was worse the second night because the basement flooded and I had to sleep in D.J.'s room, on the floor.

I almost admitted to Becky what I dreamed about, but we're definitely not that close friends. And D.J. overheard her telling their parents that the dream was about her, Becky! So then D.J. told Mark, who tried to beat me up for dreaming about his wife. Believe me, it would bother me a lot less if I were dreaming about Becky. I still wouldn't act on it of course, but it would be less twisted. I ended up confessing, in front of not just Mark and D.J. but Mr. Conner, who the dream was about.

Mrs. Conner came to talk to me about it later. She told me some stuff she heard on _Oprah_. I sort of feel better about it. I mean, I still feel like a pervert, but less of one. Sometimes sex dreams are about other things, like affection. And that sort of makes sense, because I miss Darlene, and Mrs. Conner cares about me. It just took a weird form in the dream.

But, yeah, maybe it would be healthier for me to start hanging out with women who aren't related to my ex.


	28. Obsessions

"Darlene, maybe we should rethink living together."

"Jimmy, I swear, no more family members or ex-boyfriends will drop in on us. Especially if I change the locks."

"I appreciate that but I was having doubts anyway."

"Oh."

"But finding out you lied about your mother dying really convinces me that I don't know you that well."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm sorry about that. It's just, well, you saw what she's like. And I've been trying to have a life of my own in Chicago, despite them."

"Darlene, this isn't about them. It's about us."

"Oh."

I guess he was right, but he was also wrong. The trouble started when I called home to find out what I missed on Halloween. Becky was the only one home, so she told me about everyone pranking Mom, making her think Fred is gay and Grandma is bald.

"That sounds great. I wish I'd seen it."

"Mom isn't too happy about you missing Halloween, Darlene."

"Like you never did."

"I was in Minnesota!"

"Whatever."

"Look, Darlene, I know you feel awkward around David now."

"I'm fine."

"Right. And I know you're all wrapped up with your new boyfriend."

"I'm not the kind of person who gets obsessed with my boyfriends."

"I've never been obsessed with Mark."

"Whatever."

"Have you slept with Jimmy?"

"Yes, I'm going to sleep with all the guys I go out with."

"And Jimmy is OK with this?"

"Nice," I said in acknowledgement of this nod to our conversation when she broke up with Mark years ago and went out with Dean.

"So are you going to live with him?"

"I don't know, Becky. We haven't been dating that long. And unlike David, I don't plan out my whole life with someone after the first hickey."

"I just don't want you to rush into anything."

"Becky, you're not listening. I'm the opposite of too serious about Jimmy."

"So it's just a fling?"

"You can tell David that it's somewhere between a one-night stand and a betrothal."

"I'm not reporting this to David."

"Or Mom?"

"See you at Thanksgiving, Darlene!" Becky snapped and hung up the phone.

"Yeah, right," I muttered to the dial tone.

So then what happened was I tried to tell Jimmy about the conversation, the next time he came over, leaving some stuff out, like about Mom, and he said, "Do you want to live together?"

"I don't know. I mean, it's early. I still haven't decided if you're a good enough lay to make it a regular thing." (I went to the clinic on my 18th birthday, in celebration of no longer being jailbait. I'm on the Pill now, but I'm not telling Becky that, or Mom.)

"Yeah, the jury's still out on you."

"Thanks. I don't know. Living together is a big step."

"And you just got out of a long-term relationship."

"Exactly." I almost told him about living here with David, but then I'd have to tell him about my mom making David move out, and Jimmy thought my mom was dead. (I kept meaning to tell him, but it wasn't easy.)

"Well, we can see how things go."

"Right."

"On the other hand, it would be cheaper to split the rent."

"Oh, take me, you romantic fool!"

So he did.

Then a few days later, some weird gay guy named Craig started stalking Jimmy.

"You should be flattered."

"Yeah, crime is always flattering."

"Well, at least it's in public."

"So far. I'm afraid he'll find out where I live."

"Hey, if you move in with me, I'll protect you."

"My big strong girl."

"Yeah. And this guy said he knows me?"

"Yeah, but it would be easy for him to find out your name if he found out mine."

"True."

Then it turned out that it was David, trying to break up me and Jimmy because he heard we were thinking about moving in together. Yeah, thanks a lot, Becky. Whether she told Mark or Mom, or David directly, I'll never forgive her for that.

I had to explain to Jimmy that "Craig" was really my ex-boyfriend David. I still didn't tell Jimmy about living with David, or about him living with my parents.

"So he's obsessed with you, not me?"

"Disappointed?"

"No, now I'm worried for different reasons."

"I think he's learned his lesson, and I doubt he'll visit Chicago again."

So instead my mom and Jackie came for Parents' Weekend. And Mom must've made a copy of my key, since she'd let herself in. Jimmy came home with me, so he found out that I'm not motherless, although I wished I were. Mom said some snarky things about Jimmy, including his smoking, so I showed her a smoking trick I'd picked up from him. (I don't smoke often, but maybe once a week. Ever since I was eleven and my parents made me smoke in front of them, it's just not fun anymore.)

Jimmy tried to be nice and even invited them to his ballet recital. So of course Mom had to remark on his "package," yeah, classy. (His package is fine. Different from David's but that's to be expected. I can't imagine Jackie remembers all sixty she's seen.)

Jimmy ended up demanding respect from Mom, which I had to laugh at. He doesn't get that that's not how Mom works. She doesn't really respect anyone, especially men, but the way to get respect from her is to just give her shit back when she gives you shit. I've gotten some shreds of respect that way, although, yeah, she still breaks and enters my apartment.

After Mom and Jackie went back to Lanford, Jimmy voiced his doubts about living together.

"I feel like you're hard to get close to, Darlene."

"No, I'm just a habitual liar."

"Well, OK then."

"All right, I do have trouble opening up to people, but part of that is that when I have, other people didn't respect my boundaries."

"So give them an inch and they take a mile?"

"Yeah."

"Tell a guy your mom is alive and that he won't be the first guy you shacked up with, and he'll be watching you when you sleep, huh?"

"Who told you about David living with me in Chicago?" Was it Jackie or Mom? Or David? Or Becky? Or Royal?

"You just did. But I've been wondering for awhile."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I've been trying to keep everything separate."

"Including you and me?"

"No! I just, I went through a lot with David and I can't do anything that intense again."

"So we were going to casually live together?"

"Sort of. I don't know."

"I'm sorry, that's not going to work."

"Are we breaking up?" I asked quietly.

He shrugged. "Nah, why should we? We can keep dating, but casually. I don't want you to worry about me getting obsessed with you or something."

"Jimmy."

He stubbed out his cigarette in my ashtray. "I'll call you. Maybe."

I'm not going to cry. I haven't lost him, and I haven't lost the fight. I got what I wanted. This is a good thing. I can date without all the drama, just like I always wanted. And I'll keep it that way with whoever else I go out with. I won't be inviting all of them to move in.


	29. Relationships

Darlene is back for Christmas break. She didn't come home for Thanksgiving, she claims because she had to work at the radio station. She probably spent it with Jimmy, like she spent last Thanksgiving with me. I try not to remember how we celebrated, try not to imagine how they celebrated. I also try not to think about how Darlene and I started to fall in love two Christmases ago, how we started to fall out of love last New Year's Eve.

It's easier than that would've been a few weeks ago. I'm starting to move on, partly because I made such a fool of myself when I stalked Jimmy in Chicago, hoping to break them up. I had a few dates with a new girl, Dinah. She's very different from Darlene, a nice blonde cheerleader. But I couldn't really talk to her and she had no sense of humor, so I broke up with her. I don't want to date just to date, even though everyone from Mark to Mrs. Conner encourages me to. I want to have a real connection.

A connection like I have with Becky. I don't exactly have a crush on her. It's different, and not just because she's my sister-in-law. We really talk, about everything from relationships to books. Mark doesn't understand and Darlene doesn't either. It's not about sex or romance.

I'm not saying that if she were single and my age I wouldn't pursue her romantically. She's very pretty and we do have this emotional and intellectual connection. But somehow it's a relief to know that she's off limits. Instead of being distracted by hormones, like I was with her sister, I can relax, not worry about trying to turn this into something else. And, yeah, I'll always wonder if Darlene was right in the beginning that we should be platonic friends, but I guess it was a growth experience I had to go through. I had to fall in love and get my heart broken to become the person I am.

But now that my hormones and heart have had time to cool down, and now that I've had so many talks with Becky (we get coffee every evening now that school is out, and it's my favorite part of the day, hers, too, I think), I look at my relationship with Darlene very differently. She's helped me see how abusive Darlene was. At the time I was so in love, I made excuses for Darlene. Also, because of how I reacted to my mother's abuse, I was more vulnerable to Darlene. It's sort of like how Jackie has had troubles with men because her father was abusive. (Mrs. Conner is tougher, plus she met a great guy early on.) The cycle can be broken (I think Jackie is happy with Fred, although it's hard to tell), but it's not easy.

It does help to have someone telling me I'm special and deserve someone else special. Darlene would sometimes call me a talented artist or a good lover, but it was about stuff I did, rather than about who I am. Becky just likes me for being David and she doesn't try to change me, except to encourage my self-esteem. And I know it's not like with Molly, where she was trying to get me in bed. Becky is a real friend.

Plus she knows Darlene better than anyone does, except maybe their parents. She knows how Darlene hates emotions (except hate). Darlene is afraid to show joy or sorrow, or sometimes even fear. And Darlene has been putting Becky down for years, like calling her a dumb blonde, even though Becky had great grades in high school. Not that grades are proof of intelligence of course. (Mine are much better now that I'm more focused and not distracted by Darlene.) But there's a lot Becky knows better than Darlene, like about people.

Becky has made me see that Darlene should've been honest about Jimmy, either tried to be faithful to me when she was tempted or broken things off with me at the beginning of the summer, not let it drag out for weeks, and sneak around meeting Jimmy in a motel, especially in Lanford. Not that I'm entirely blameless. I should've let Darlene know how I felt about Jimmy from the beginning, and I definitely shouldn't have stalked Jimmy in Chicago. If Darlene couldn't give me what I needed, then I should've moved on, which is what I'm trying to do now.

Becky thinks I should confront Darlene, so I can get closure. But I'd rather not reopen that wound, even to heal it. Darlene would probably just call me a wuss if I told her how she hurt me. I'd rather spend my energy trying to love myself, so that I'll be ready when I find someone new to love.

When Darlene first dumped me for Jimmy, I got a lot of attention from girls because I had a sad, sensitive thing going for me. Unfortunately, I was too sad and too hung up on Darlene to want to date. Now that I'm not sad anymore, I'm not as attractive, but, yeah, Dinah went out with me. Hopefully, I can meet a girl who's a better match and we can date. I'll look around when school is back in session, although I won't get distracted enough to affect my grades.

For now, I'll spend time with my sister-in-law. I have advice for her about Mark of course, since I know him as well as anyone knows him. In a different way, and for different reasons, he's as closed off as Darlene. That was how he dealt with our parents, and apparently it's hard for him to break through that, even though he loves Becky. She's trying to be patient with him, although it does get frustrating. But then they're married and she still wants his baby. (At least they're having sex again, just not as often as when they were newlyweds, but that's probably normal.)

It's different for me and Darlene. She's Jimmy's problem now. Maybe she'll open up emotionally with him, but it's probably not as important to him as it was to me. If she's lucky, he doesn't care. And if she's really lucky, he does care and he'll find the key to her heart that I never could. I wish them luck but it's nothing to do with me anymore. Darlene and I aren't even friends. We just share the same basement, at different times.


	30. Mourning

I really don't want to go home again, but I have to. Nana Mary died and she's the only person in the family that I love with no dislike mixed in. Dad didn't go into details, just that it was peaceful and in her sleep, and the funeral will be in Lanford on Sunday.

For her sake, I'll put up with David and Becky, but it won't be easy. It would be bad enough if it was just their "connection." I don't know if they've done something physical, or if they want to. I think he's always had a little crush on her. And I can understand her wanting someone to talk to after all these years with Mark. And I'm not saying they can't be friends. But it feels like they've crossed lines. Mark feels threatened and even told me, and we definitely don't confide in each other.

At first I thought Becky was trying to make me jealous or something. Some sort of twisted game, maybe to get back at me for my insults. Even though David isn't mine anymore, he used to be, and I thought she was proving he belonged to her now. But Mark told me that this whatever between David and Becky has been going on for a couple months, not just since I came home for winter break.

It got worse though. It turns out that one of the things Becky and David bonded over is what a cold, abusive bitch I am. Becky said the worst parts and David wanted to stay out of it, but eventually he said he felt like we never really connected. God, that hurt! I told him I'd been closer to him than I'd ever been to anyone. I thought of all the times I opened up to him. OK, it was never easy, but I did it because I loved him. How could he not see that? How could he agree with Becky that I can't get close to anyone?

OK, I didn't get close to Jimmy, but I never fell in love with him. I fell for David and even though it's over now, it felt real at the time. Or was I just kidding myself, like David did?

I wish I could talk to Nana Mary, at least one more time. Even when I was going through that deep depression at the beginning of high school, she always knew what to say. Or sometimes she just listened, without making me feel like Mom does, where she pries it out of me. Also, it was comforting to think of all the things Nana Mary survived in eighty or ninety years. It made me think I could get through anything. This weekend would be easier if I could talk to her. Well, maybe when it gets really bad, I'll think towards her in Heaven, or wherever she ended up.

...

Dad lied. Nana Mary is alive and well. Part of me was relieved to hear that of course, but I almost left as soon as I found out. Somehow I ended up staying the whole weekend. I'm still not sure if that's a bad thing.

He lied to Becky, too. He told her I missed her and cried about it on the phone. Of course I was crying about Nana Mary.

In the car, when Becky and I paused the insults, she asked, "So, Dad, why is it so important that Darlene and I pretend to get along?"

"Yeah," I said, "I could pretend easier back in Chicago."

"It's a birthday present for your mother."

"Mom's birthday is in October." I thought of all the times Crystal pointed out that Mom and I are both on the cusp of Libra and Scorpio. I know it's a crock, but it does mean my birthday is close to Mom's.

"Uh, she's using Chinese reckoning and measuring from the conception."

"Oh, yeah, let's celebrate Grandpa Al and Grandma Bev's accident that ensured decades of misery."

"God, Darlene," Becky said from the backseat, "could you be any more insulting of our mother?"

I didn't bother to explain I meant our grandparents' joyless sex life and the way he beat their daughters.

Dad said, "Repeat after me, 'I love you, Darlene.' 'I love you more.' " 

Becky and I sighed but we did rehearse our lines. We couldn't say them with any believability, but at least they were easy to memorize.

I had to work at the diner, too. Yeah, this weekend sucked a dozen ways. But I no longer get on my vegetarian high horse. (High carrot?) I just touch the meat and try not to think about where it came from.

The worst part was that David showed up and wanted to talk to me. I tried to ignore him, but it's not that big a restaurant. He apologized for saying we never connected and I'm cold and mean. (He didn't mention "abusive," but maybe that was implied.)

And I couldn't just accept his apology. If he thinks I'm both bitchy and emotionless, then why not act that way deliberately? I not only agreed with him that we never connected, but I said our relationship was a bit of a joke. "It's not like we ever really talked or opened up or anything." And I kept thinking of all that I'd shared with him, things that no one, not even my mom, knows. How vulnerable I was with him sometimes. How I said, "I love you," and not just grudgingly. And how he shared with me things about his family and how he gave me his heart, again and again. I figured after Becky's brainwashing, he honestly doesn't remember those moments. I had to put up this shell about putting up a shell, because otherwise I would've cried like a baby.

Then I really twisted the knife. I said, "God knows the sex was pretty pathetic, huh?" Maybe he's forgotten all the orgasms he gave me, and how much fun I had, we both had, in between orgasms, and how even just making out was always amazing between us. If we hadn't connected through the tears and the laughter, the comics and the conversations, God knows we would've connected physically. And it was never just physical with us.

I wanted him to say, "What are you talking about? I still jerk off thinking about how great it was." OK, maybe not in the diner. And if he wasn't going to argue that we did open up to each other, then he wasn't going to defend our sex life. He replied, "I held back a lot 'cause I didn't want to intimidate you." Yeah, right. David never held back in his life, except academically (until this year apparently). That was one of the things I loved about him, in and out of bed, how he gave me his whole self, even if at times it felt like a burden.

I told one last lie: "God, when I think of how hot the sex is with Jimmy, it really makes me laugh." Jimmy and I did go out a few times after it became casual but then it fizzled out. The sex was never hot, although it wasn't bad. And even if it had been hot, I wouldn't have been cruel enough to laugh at David's lovemaking. But it was the bitchiest thing I could think to say. I wanted to confirm David's worst thoughts of me.

And he said he was happy for me that I found someone I can get close to. How can he still be so sweet to me, after all that?

I wanted to cry after he left, but I promised myself I'd wait till I was alone in my apartment. Then I walked in on Jackie crying in the kitchen. She and Mom had a fight and I found myself comforting her. She doesn't see me as cold and distant, so I can't be that way with her. Especially not when I remember the time I walked in on her in the bathroom and saw her crying over the bruises that Fisher gave her.

I ended up telling Mom Jackie's side of things later. I even thanked Becky for taking my side against Mom when I said Mom always wants people to put her first, though it was hard to get the words "thank you" out. But I felt emotionally drained by the time I left for Chicago.

I couldn't talk things out with David, even though he seems ready to be friends again. I can't sort out how I feel about him, or how I want him to feel about me. But I do know that I'm jealous that Becky is his best friend now. Through all our arguments and break-ups, it never occurred to me that he'd replace me that way.

So instead of mourning my great-grandmother, I'm mourning two fifteen-year-olds who were best friends and made comics together.


	31. Translucent

"Let me get the last of my stuff and then the basement will be all yours again."

"David, wait. I want to talk to you."

Oh, shit, I was afraid of this! The problem was, I felt guilty about two entirely different things, and I wasn't sure which one Darlene was calling me on. Or how she found out about either, other than she hasn't entirely lost her ability to see right through me.

I decided to play dumb until I knew where she was going with this. "If this is about my SAT scores, that was partly luck."

"Oh, yeah, Mom told me about that. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"No, this is about, well, you know how sometimes people say things they regret?"  


I almost let out a sigh of relief that this wasn't about Stacy, or at least not me and Stacy. It might be about Mark and Stacy, but that wasn't my fault, at least not directly.  


I'd noticed Stacy right away. Hell, so did D.J. and he's not exactly mature for his age. Stacy is the new "busboy," I guess "busperson," at the diner and she is a beautiful platinum blonde, maybe twenty years old, with a great body that even her apron can't hide. OK, she's not very bright and she doesn't have a sense of humor, and I probably never would've had a connection with her like I do with Becky. But I liked her and I wanted to go out with her after she broke up with her boyfriend.

The thing was, she liked guys like Mark, guys who fix things. She thought of sensitive guys as like brothers, or sisters. Still, when I offered to put her in the mural I was painting at the restaurant, she said yes.

Somehow it turned into a competition with Mark, who was flattered when she flirted with him. I don't know if he was trying to prove something or hurt me or what. Maybe he was jealous that Mr. Conner is proud that I'm planning to go to college. Probably just Lanford CC to start out. Becky and I have talked about how fun it would be to take classes together, or at least hang out on campus together.

The competition over Stacy might have had something to do with Becky, since Mark is still uncomfortable over our friendship. Maybe he was trying to take Stacy because he thinks I'm trying to take Becky.

I actually got Stacy to agree to go to a concert with me, but then Mark told her that was the only night he could fix her car. And she chose him.

Becky came in a little later, when Stacy was in the kitchen. (This was after hours at the diner, so no one else was around.). And it was really tempting to tell her about Mark and Stacy. But I couldn't hurt Becky like that. She's my good friend and she's so sweet. Plus, she still loves Mark. On the other hand, was it right for me as a friend to lie to her when her husband was planning to cheat on her? And what about my loyalty to Mark? Yeah, he's a jerk most of the time, but he's still my brother, the only family I have left since our parents divorced and left town. And maybe he wouldn't really cheat on Becky, not just to punish me, but maybe he would.

So I lied and claimed that Mark was going to fix a car I'm thinking of buying. After Becky left, smiling again, Mark told me not to do him any favors. I pointed out that Becky and I are the only people who give a crap about him.

He broke the date or whatever it was with Stacy. So she went to the concert after all. It was fun, but I didn't like knowing I was the runner-up. And to be honest, I had more of a connection with Dinah, although Stacy definitely is hotter. (Dinah and I just kissed by the way, but it was weird at first, kissing someone who wasn't Darlene. With Molly, I didn't kiss back, so I still don't count it.)

I had to borrow Mrs. Conner's car, since obviously neither of us had a working car. Mrs. Conner teased me about "getting coffee," but she seemed happy for me.

To be honest, I didn't expect to get beyond a goodnight kiss. Then when the concert was over, and it was time to take Stacy home, she said, "I had a nice time tonight, David."

"Yeah, me, too." I waited to see if she'd let me down gently or if she'd indicate that she'd like to go out again.

"The thing is, I just don't feel the kind of connection I felt with Billy."

"I understand."

"So how about just a blowjob?"

I blinked and echoed, "Just a blowjob?"

"Yeah, you're a nice guy, but I don't want to take my clothes off with you. Is that OK?"

I could've said no. I mean, not that I was expecting more, but that that was a lot more than I was hoping for. It would've been great to see and touch her naked body, but at the same time, the romantic in me felt like it was wrong to do anything with her when I knew this wasn't going anywhere. Plus, I'd learned to be a lover with Darlene, so it felt weird that I wouldn't be trying to please the woman, just letting her please me.

When Molly kissed me a couple years ago, I was noble. This time I had no girlfriend to betray. So I let Stacy go down on me. Yeah, we used a condom. It felt great. It felt empty.

And now two weeks later, I felt guilty. I know, it's not like I cheated on Darlene. We broke up months ago, and she almost moved in with a guy, a guy she said she had really hot sex with. But I felt weird about her knowing, if she did, because it's not like it happened in the context of a relationship. It was basically a pity blowjob. I felt so cheap.

I now reminded myself that Darlene had said something about people saying things they regret, which didn't fit the Stacy situation, which was more about me doing something I regretted. It did, however, fit the other thing I felt guilty about, although my intentions were honorable there.

About a week ago, Mr. Conner confided in me and Mark about a friend whose wife lied about hanging out with a woman but she actually went out with another man. It was unclear if this was just socially or if it was adultery. I was also worried he was talking about Mrs. Conner.

I said maybe the woman wanted to get caught. I was thinking of Darlene. She didn't have to meet Jimmy in a Lanford motel last summer, when she could've waited a week till she was back in Chicago. She wanted someone to see her car in the parking lot, and Jackie did.

In her case, at least subconsciously, Darlene wanted me to know so I'd insist she make a choice. Becky and I have discussed this and it's what makes the most sense.

At the same time, I realized while listening to Mr. Conner that the situation sort of fits me and Becky. Not that we're committing adultery, and not we've ever lied about spending time together, but I think Mark does feel threatened by it. And maybe subconsciously that's what Becky wanted. Not that she was using me and not that she didn't sincerely want my friendship, but maybe on some level she wanted Mark to notice. Not so that he could beat me up, but so he could pay more attention to her.

So I told Mr. Conner that his friend should try paying more attention to his wife, and she wouldn't go out with another man. That wouldn't have worked for me and Darlene, since she always acted like I paid her too much attention, but it seems to be working for Mark, because he has been paying more attention to Becky and they are getting along better. She and I still hang out, but less, which is fine. Even though things didn't work out with Stacy, I am ready to start spending more time around non-Conner women.

The problem is, it didn't work for Mr. Conner's friend, who turned out to be Fred. He zeroed in on the part about Jackie spending time with another man, and he left her for a few days. I think they're working things out now, but I still feel guilty about it. Maybe I shouldn't give advice for middle-aged married people, even if it works for young married people.

"David, please say something. This isn't easy for me."

Maybe it wasn't about Fred and Jackie either. Maybe it was about us. But what did she regret saying, or wish I hadn't said?

"I know," I said, even though I didn't.

"OK, we had a lot of problems in our relationship, but it's over. There's no point trying to hurt each other now."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Darlene. And I tried to apologize on your last visit."

"I know. I just wasn't ready to hear an apology. Or to give one. But, well, for one thing, our relationship wasn't a joke. At least I don't think it was."

"No, it wasn't."

"And, well, the sex wasn't pathetic."

"Yeah," I said softly, trying not to look at the bed she was sitting on, one of the beds we've fooled around on, especially the time I got my nose pierced for her. And I shifted down the box I was holding, in case I got a sudden erection.

"And, well, I don't laugh about it with Jimmy. Or about anything with Jimmy anymore. We, we broke up."

"You did?" Was she asking if we could get back together? And did I want that? I couldn't help it, I said, "Even though the sex was so hot?"

"It was hotter with you," she whispered.

"Yeah?" I whispered back, grateful I was holding my junk. I mean, well, anyway.

"So," she said in her regular voice, "you can go forth and date with more confidence in your prowess."

"Um, thank you. Uh, have you been seeing anybody since Jimmy?"

"Yeah, a little. Nothing serious yet."

"Yeah, I, I went out with someone a couple weeks ago. With Stacy, you know, the busperson?"

"Ah, that explains the mural."

"You saw that?"

"No, but Mark told me about it when he met me at the bus station."

"Oh." I wondered what else he told her, but I couldn't imagine him confessing to her.

"So did you have a 'connection'?"

I was doing my best not to blush. "Um, we had one date. It was nice. But, no, we didn't really connect."

"Not even a pity blowjob?"

I could feel myself turning bright red. She really can see through me, or she's just a really good guesser.

She laughed. "God, I've missed you!"

So we didn't get back together, but I guess we're friends again.


	32. Not Indifferent

I'm going back to Lanford this weekend, mostly by choice. It's not as awkward as it was, although still kind of awkward. At least the David & Becky thing isn't in my face anymore. My sister now lives in a trailer park. Yeah, I'm so proud. Anyway, she and David are still friends but it's not like they hang out all the time anymore. And he and are I on better terms than we were, not exactly friends, but not enemies either. When everyone helped Mark and Becky move into their new place, David and I talked directly to each other, with no insults, and he touched my back. I know, it was just my back, but it was the first time we'd touched since we broke up six months ago.

I broke a date for this weekend. Nothing big, just a guy I've gone out with a couple times. I've been seeing a lot of guys lately. My indifference is apparently wildly attractive. Not that I'm playing hard to get. I mean, I'll say yes to a date if the guy's not a total jerk, but mostly they suck, and not in a good way. So I've been kissing a lot but that's it. At first, when I started at art school, I thought, "Finally, I'll meet some intelligent people." But most of the guys I meet are so full of themselves, like they'll say something that's supposed to be witty and then act like I'm supposed to applaud. Or they just want to talk about how creative they are. Or worse, they'll praise my creativity, but it's clearly just to get in my pants. It'll be nice to just go home and relax, not worry about trying to impress anyone or about them trying to impress me.

Plus, Mom is in her seventh month now, almost eighth, and I feel like Dad, D.J., and David shouldn't have to bear the entire burden of her mood swings. And she does want my feedback on the big bedroom swap. Now that Becky and I are moved out, our room sits empty and she wants to move D.J. in there, with David sleeping in my old bed when I'm home. Then D.J.'s room will be turned into a nursery. The basement will be David's, except when I'm there. She's already planned this all out, but she still claims she wants to hear what I think. I think she's going to try to talk me into redecorating. I'd just as soon leave up D.J.'s dinosaurs for Baby Sis, but I doubt Mom will go for that.

...

I went to dinner and a movie with David tonight. No, it wasn't a date and, no, it wasn't my idea, or his. It was Mom's. I was bored, sitting around watching the O.J. trial with her and Jackie, so I decided to go see a movie, and Mom suggested I go with David. She said it would be just as friends, but I don't know if she believed that. Or if I did. I don't think David did. I think he wants to get back together. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

I mean, it felt really natural and comfortable tonight, maybe because I know David so well, and he wasn't trying to impress me. Sure, it was a little awkward at first, but then we started making fun of the movie ( _The Flintstones_ ), and we were almost the only people there (it's been out for months and is probably on home video by now, but the $2 theater always gets stuff like that), so that was cool, whispering wisecracks and laughing, but it wasn't like either of us were trying to be witty. We were just ourselves.

Afterwards, we went out for burgers. I got a veggie and he got cheese, but his was kind of dry, yet he didn't complain.

We got in around eleven. No, we didn't kiss, or even hug. We just said goodnight and he went upstairs and I went down to the basement. He's staying in my old room this weekend, pre-redecoration, since, as he says, "It beats sleeping on D.J.'s floor."

It's weird to think about how when he first moved in, I slept up there and he slept down here. But then everything is different now. At that time, my parents didn't want us to fool around in the house, and now it's a big deal, to me anyway, that David touched my back two weeks ago.

He didn't do or say anything specific tonight to make me think he wants to get back together. It was just a feeling I had. But how could we get back together considering how I treated him after I met Jimmy? Even if things had worked out with Jimmy, I still handled it all so badly. And of course Jimmy definitely wasn't worth hurting David over. Not that Jimmy asked me to hurt David. That was all me. Jimmy wasn't a bad guy but he wasn't right for me. I wanted to date other people, not marry the first guy I was serious about, not make my mother's mistake, Becky's mistake. Instead I made my own mistakes.

I don't think I ever stopped loving David. Even when we hated each other, even when we hurt each other. It's just, it got to be too much for me. But I miss him, even more now that I've seen what other guys are like. And maybe I was too immature to handle all that, the intensity of him, of his love, of my own love. But I miss feeling that way.

What if I'm wrong? What if I'm just projecting my own feelings onto him? Thinking that he wants to get back together, because that's what I want. I can't take that risk. It's probably better to just rebuild the friendship. I mean, it won't be the same friendship as before. We're older. We've gone through so much. We've both changed our hairstyles. (Mine is shorter than it's been in years, while he's brushing his off his face more. We still have crazy hair, but relatively tamed.)

The problem is, I'm not indifferent about him. What's the opposite of indifference? Difference? Yeah. He's different. He makes me feel different than everyone else. He makes me feel, because he's never indifferent.

He's the one I want, so I can't go after him. Jimmy dumping me didn't really hurt, except that I felt like an idiot. But if David rejected me? David, the only guy I ever loved, almost the only guy I ever liked. I don't think I could live through that.

So I'll earn back his friendship. And maybe someday we'll be sitting on the couch together and he'll casually put his arm on my shoulder, after planning it for three weeks. And I'll react better than I did three years ago.


	33. Same Difference

I lied to Mrs. Conner and Darlene this morning. Mrs. Conner was trying to arrange another platonic date between me and Darlene and I said I already had a date, with a girl I've been trying to get to go out with me for months. I just couldn't take another evening of hanging out with Darlene on what had the form of a date, dinner and a movie, knowing that there would be no goodnight kiss, no future. I'd honestly rather go out with Dinah. Because Darlene isn't just another girl, and I can't act like she is.

I still love her. I've tried, I really have, to get over her. And I have in the sense that I basically accept that we'll never be together again. But that doesn't mean I don't want to be with her. And, yes, she broke my heart but it's mostly healed now and it still belongs to her, even though she doesn't want it.

Yeah, maybe she would go out casually with me, something to kill the time during her visits home. We could kiss, maybe even have sex. But I want everything with her, and if I can't get it, then I'm better off with nothing.

Still, I guess I acted like I wanted to get back together with Darlene. I didn't mean to. I know better than to get my hopes up about that. It's just, well, it felt really natural and comfortable with her last night, I mean if I ignored my feelings. We laughed and goofed on the movie, and talked at dinner and after, nothing big, just updating on our lives, school and stuff, and what it'll be like when Mrs. Conner's baby is born.

(Darlene said she has trouble picturing it. It feels unreal to her, like her mom will be pregnant forever. It's different for me because I'm here all the time, and I think about what impact a baby will have on the household. I really like babies, but I know it won't be like with Andy, where I have a choice whether to be around him. I know that Darlene's baby sister will cry late at night and we'll all lose sleep. And money will be tighter. Darlene will be in Chicago, and it'll impact her less.)

I want to be friends with her, to not spoil it this time. But I can't hang out in that way. Coffee, like with Becky, would be fine. Movies make me want to hold her hand. Shit, I touched her back a couple weeks ago, when we were helping Mark and Becky move into their trailer. It was just this reflex, but I was also thinking back to when we sort of became in-laws, after the elopement. I've been very careful not to touch Darlene. I know she doesn't like random touching, and our friendship is so fragile right now. I won't do it again, but it'll be easier to resist even innocent touches like that if I'm not in situations where we're sort of alone and/or bonding.

Anyway, Mrs. Conner asked me if I like "my new girl" better than Darlene. And I said I'm over the break-up and it was almost a year ago. OK, more like six months. (If it was a year ago, Mrs. Conner obviously would no longer be pregnant.)

I guess I'll take myself to a movie tonight, just to make it more plausible when I come back from "my big date." I can fake the dinner. And I really hope Mrs. Conner isn't going to ask me about what base I get to. She was discreet when I returned from my date with Stacy. But looking back, I wonder if she set the whole thing up, considering she told me she had two tickets to the Grateful Dead that she couldn't use, and she's a huge Deadhead. And now she's trying to push me and Darlene back together, but I'll push back if I have to.

...

"De ja vu, huh?" Darlene whispered in line at the drugstore, not looking up from her comic book.

I shook my head. It's not the same, but I knew what she meant. We bought condoms again tonight, although we won't use them until her next visit. And I wasn't as embarrassed and ignorant as the first time we bought them, but there's even more need than there was a couple years ago.

OK, I'll back up. Yeah, we're back together. It happened in a very different way than I used to imagine, but better.

I was sitting in the kitchen, drawing and wondering when I'd have to leave for "my date." Darlene came in and sniffed me. She asked if I was wearing cologne. I told her it was a cough drop, but I realized I should've at least put some aftershave on, made this date seem more believable. Well, I could do it before I left the house, maybe put on a fresh shirt, too.

She was acting weird and I asked her what was going on. She said it would be a good time to tell me something if she had something to tell me, but she didn't. Except she did.

One of the weird things about living in this house is that people act like there's more than a half-wall between the kitchen and the living room. I guess it's for privacy's sake, because it's such a crowded household. (Well, less crowded since Mark and Becky moved out, but they still drop by.) So I had to act like I couldn't hear a perfectly audible conversation between Darlene and her mother, about how Darlene loves me but was afraid to tell me. (And I had to pretend Mrs. Conner didn't call me Kenny G.) It felt weird to hear Mrs. Conner say that I can't talk about my feelings because I'm a guy, as if she and everyone else in this extended family don't treat me like I'm a woman. 

And I've never been afraid of my feelings. That's more like Darlene. And she definitely sounded afraid of sharing her feelings about me. She always has been.

But this time was different because I heard Darlene say that I'm the one she wants and she couldn't take it if I rejected her. It was really hard to just keep sitting there at the kitchen table and not run into the living room, putting my arms around her. I did kind of feel like I should go to the basement and hang out there, where I couldn't hear this, but then what would I do when Darlene came downstairs? I couldn't go up to her old bedroom and get ready for my "date" until she was done talking to her mother. But I decided I'd cut my date short and talk to her when I got home. She said something about all the guys she's been dating (she said it was a lot) sucking in comparison to me, which was flattering I guess, although I was jealous that she's been dating more than I have. Anyway, I'd tell her that the girls I've been dating sucked, too. No, wait, rephrase that, considering the Stacy experiment.

Then Darlene told her mother, "God, I'd reject me if I was him. I mean, I dumped him and I hurt him really badly. I really messed this whole thing up and it's all my fault. I just, please don't make me go in there and find out." She never really apologized like that before. OK, it wasn't to my face but I still heard it. I'd already forgiven her, but it helped. And it made me feel like things could be different between us, in a good way. We wouldn't be going back to our relationship of a year or two ago, and that's fine. We're older now, and we've been through a lot, including new relationships. (Even though things were and are platonic with Becky, I'm sure I've learned as much from getting to know her as Darlene learned from her time with Jimmy.)

Mrs. Conner kept nudging Darlene, so finally Darlene came in, borrowed a pencil, and left. Then she came back and, without looking at me, said, "Okay, look. I still have a lot of feelings for you, David. And I want us to get back together, okay? So, I guess I kind of love you. But you probably don't love me anymore and I don't blame you after the way I treated you, but I had to tell you because I think it would be stupid for me not to tell you when there's a chance that we might get back together. I just don't want to get hurt."

If that had just come out of nowhere, I don't know how I would've reacted. As it was, I had a lot of feelings, too. One of them was I was thinking of how hard emotions are for this girl and how brave she was to tell me anyway. And I thought of the time she cried over our first break-up, because it hurt her that I might've lied about kissing Molly back. And Darlene didn't want me to see her crying but I think I started to love her then, or at least to be conscious of it. And I thought of her comforting me after she saw my mother hit me. And I felt guilty that I'd agreed with Becky that Darlene was abusive. I'm not saying Darlene isn't a bitch. But not evil like my mother. She's never hurt me like my mom did. And I regret the times I've tried to hurt her.

I felt like crying. But at the same time I was so happy, because she was saying all these things that I used to hope, in the first weeks of the big break-up, she would say to me. Sometimes I would picture telling her that I didn't love her anymore and she deserved to suffer. But right now, I just wanted to take away her pain and uncertainty.

I stood up and said, "I won't hurt you, Darlene."

She ran into my arms and it felt perfect to have her there again, holding each other so close. But when she asked if we were back together, I couldn't help it, I reminded her about my "date." She said she'd stick forks in my eyes. I took it as her old sick sense of humor rather than an actual threat.

"Or, you know, I, I could stay in tonight."

She kissed me and I kissed back, long and deep.

I'm pretty sure Mrs. Conner was watching and eavesdropping from the living room, so after awhile I whispered, "As long as you have my pencil, you want to write something?"

"Oh, you Master of Innuendo," she teased in a whisper back. Then she backed away a little, her hands still on my shoulders, and said, "Come on, let's go for a walk."

So we did, to the drugstore.

"I've been safe but, um, well, you see, I've been off and on the Pill."

I didn't tell her I'd overheard that part. I just nodded and said, "Yeah, let's be safe." I was safe with Stacy, but I'll get tested this summer.

"I'll start taking it more regularly now that we're back together. You're going to really like bareback."

"Darlene!" I groaned. I had to stop walking because of my hard-on.

She patted my arm. "Sorry. It's just that Jimmy enjoyed it the couple times we didn't use condoms."

"You are such a bitch."

She grinned. "I know. But not heartless."

I kissed her. "No, not heartless." And I quickly tweaked her left nipple.

She blushed a little and said, "That was a very delayed retaliation, and in public no less."

"I'm not the shy boy you remember."

"What other surprises do you have for me, Stud?"

"You'll find out tonight."

She shook her head. "Let's wait. Mom's going to expect us to have reunion sex this weekend and I don't want to go through all that again."

"You mean she's going to be disappointed if we do or if we don't?"

"Either, both, I don't know. But even if she pushed us back together, I don't want her controlling this."

"When are you visiting again?"

She chuckled at my urgency. "Before the baby's born. Mom's I mean."

"Right." I thought about baseball for a minute and then said, "Come on, let's go get ready for when it happens."

"Sex?"

"Yeah, sex," I said, knowing she was also remembering the conversation from two years ago, after our first second base.

So we went to the drugstore and got condoms and comics. Then we went home and read the comics out loud to each other in the living room until Mrs. Conner yelled that it was time to go to bed. Darlene and I kissed goodnight and then I went up to sleep in her bed and she went down to sleep in mine.


	34. Equator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I've tried to stay canonical with this story, that's just not possible for Season Eight, and even more so Season Nine. From this point out, I will be using my own timeline and adapting canon for my own purposes.

I found David out in the garage, working on the banner for the baby shower. "Nobody's home," I said.

"I'm sorry, Darlene, but I've got to get this done. Maybe we can spend some time together after the shower."

I sighed. "After all her hard work getting us back together, now it feels like my mom is trying to keep us apart."

"No, it's just nesting."

"And greed."

He laughed. "I've missed you."

I've missed him, too, in a different way than before, when I couldn't even admit it to myself. Mom kept pushing me a couple weeks ago to face my feelings for David and to admit them to him. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I knew I had to. And he took me back.

We talked a lot that weekend. And kissed a lot. But I wasn't ready to get back into sex, especially not with the whole family making a big deal about the reconciliation.

Poor Jackie had to tell me she and Fred are getting divorced. "Maybe if I'd met a great guy like David in high school, my life would've turned out differently." I let her cry on me and tried not to think about the times I've joked that if Becky and I grow up to be her and Mom, I as the younger sister will have to sleep with every guy in town, while Becky gets fat. Not that I think Jackie's sluttiness is entirely to blame for the failure of her marriage, but it's probably a bad idea to get pregnant from a one-night stand and then marry someone who's incompatible.

The thing is, soon I won't be the kid sister. I'll be the middle sister, in a different way than I am now. It doesn't feel real to me that I'll have a sister who's a whole generation younger. We probably won't even fight till she's ten and I'm pushing thirty.

Becky and I were fighting this weekend, until David stepped in as peacemaker. Mom, who last week, the weekend I didn't come home, started this nesting thing, wanting to change not only furnishings but TV viewing habits, is back to watching the O.J. trial and Nick at Nite, but she's insisting on getting the nursery done. Plus she wanted me and Becky to throw her a baby shower so she can cash in the gifts. Baby Sis presumably will sleep in a cardboard box. Fortunately D.J.'s cardboard-eating phase is over. Yeah, poor Baby Sis doesn't know what a weird family she's moving into.

Mom and Dad haven't made a list of baby names yet. She told me she's hoping inspiration will strike in the hospital. I suggested Anesthesia or Epidural.

David interrupted an argument about who was going to do what for the nursery and the shower by saying, "I'll paint the nursery."

"Aw, David, that's really sweet of you," Becky said.

"No murals with busgirl's cleavage please," I said.

"It's a mermaid," he mumbled, not for the first time.

Becky gave us a look like, "Well, you two are back to normal," even though David and I haven't exactly picked up where we left off. Then she said, "But what about the men's shower Mom wants David to throw Dad at work?"

"Please. Mechanics aren't going to want streamers and cutesy party games. I'll take them a fleet of subs, a jumbo-size bag of chips, and a couple twelve-packs."

Becky and David exchanged a look like, "Darlene can think like a typical guy better than we can," but I didn't mind, since it's true. Now that I'm a college sophomore, I willingly wear dresses sometimes, but I am still a grown-up tomboy.

Then Becky said, "If that's all you're doing, Darlene, then you can help me with Mom's shower, or David with the nursery."

I sighed. "I'm not making the food, unless we put out Old People Chow." Other than some of Mom's high school friends that she hardly sees anymore, like Anne-Marie and Crystal, the guests were mostly Grandma's friends. I know because I had to make and hand-deliver the invitations, since there wasn't enough time to mail them out.

"I'll help Becky with the food."

"That's really nice of you, David, but don't you think you're taking on a lot? It's not even your mother."

"Yeah, but she's like my mother."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll serve the food to the old ladies, and I'll do the prep work for David to paint the nursery."

He kissed my cheek. "It'll go much faster with three of us."

"And I can ask Mark to take care of Dad's shower."

"Don't call it a shower," David said, "or he won't want to help."

"I guess it's too late to pretend it's Fred's bachelor party."

David and Becky winced.

I did what I could in the nursery. And then when Becky went to the store to get more food, I realized the house was sitting empty. So I went looking for David.

"I missed you, too."

He was kneeling as he painted the banner, which was lying on the garage floor. He looked up at me and said, "We'll see each other every day this summer, and that's only three months away."

I thought of how I wasted last summer thinking about Jimmy, and the summer before that David didn't want me getting ready to leave for college. I said, "Yeah, but Mom will probably draft us into taking care of the baby."

"I don't mind. And we'll still find time for us." Then he unhooked the one overall strap I'd bothered with.

"David! " I gasped. Did he want to do it in the garage? Dad would kill us if he ever found out. But I didn't stop David from pushing up my Felix the Cat shirt.

To my surprise, David kissed my belly. Maybe he was thinking about how he wants to put babies in there someday. (The idea isn't as repugnant to me as it used to be, but I still want to wait ten or twenty years.) Or maybe he picked it as an intimate but not too intimate spot.

His kisses at first were soft and light, but not enough to tickle. Then he started licking, including in my navel. It was silly but sexy. I couldn't decide if I wanted him to move north or south, but for now I was enjoying the equator.

Then he stroked my stomach and I thought about how much I've missed his hands. I went out with some artists during my boring dating frenzy, and I knew they were good with their hands by what they created, but I never liked their art as much as David's and I never wanted their hands on me the way I wanted David's.

But when one of his hands moved north and the other moved south, I forced myself to back away. "I really want to, David, but you're right. We've got a lot to get done."

He sighed. "Please go back in the house."

I nodded and went to start the dishwasher, so we'd have enough clean plates and everything for that night.

The baby shower was incredibly boring of course, but it made Mom happy, which makes Dad happy. Mark took Dad and Fred and the other guys down at the garage to the Lobo, which made them happier than any shower.

I mean the garage where they all fix City vehicles. As for the garage at home, David and I snuck out there after the shower, while Jackie took Mom to the mall, to exchange the gifts before the stores closed. Becky went with them, since she still loves the mall. And D.J. started moving his stuff down the hall. David and I earlier helped with the furniture. Becky is relieved he's using his own bed instead of hers. D.J. told me it'd be gross to sleep on a bed that Becky and Mark have had sex on. It's weird to think that they had sex on the bed I no longer use, but then David and I had sex on it first.

And now we were about to have sex on my grandmother's couch. Last week, part of Mom's nesting was moving the old couch, which David once wanted to have sex on but I was pretty sure my parents have done it on, into the garage and taking Grandma's. But she decided that she liked the old couch better, so Grandma's got moved out to the garage. The thrift store is supposed to pick it up next week, but meanwhile it seemed like a good place to fool around without technically breaking the no-sex-in-the-house rule, which I haven't tested since I was jailbait. And OK, this garage is Dad's domain, but if David and I defiled a piece of furniture that's going away, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Still, he put a sheet over it before he lay down.

I climbed on top of him and we started kissing. He grew an inch or two taller during the big break-up, but we still line up well. Not that I minded Jimmy being taller, but it was an adjustment. Lying on David, our lips and bodies pressed together, felt like coming home.

I'd worn a dress for the baby shower and didn't bother to change out of it later, even to move furniture. David now hiked up the skirt and made a beeline for my panties. I could feel him getting hard underneath me.

"God, David!"

"Waited for you so long!" he groaned.

"Yes!" I moaned, undoing his belt.

We only took off enough clothes to get at each other, to reunite the parts that had been kept apart the longest. I got the condom on him as quickly as I could without tearing it. Then I rode him until I took the edge off a little, not quite to orgasm, but close enough that when I got on the bottom and he pushed down into me, I came the moment he reentered me. So my orgasm surrounded him, pulsing around him as he gave me deep, hungry strokes.

He not surprisingly didn't last long, but then he put his head up my skirt and licked me till I came.

Then we cuddled and he whispered, "Was it always this good?"

"It was always the best," I whispered back.

Then we necked until he was ready for another condom. That time was slower, more loving, just as good in a different way. We looked into each other's eyes and caressed each other, even as our privates moved together.

Afterwards, I said, "This is the nicest shower I've ever been to."

"Hm, speaking of showers."

I hesitated and then nodded. So we gathered the sheet, our discarded clothes, and the condom box, then headed into the house for my parents' bathroom. Then we stripped down and soaped up. It felt good to be naked with him again, seeing and touching his body, being seen and touched by him.

"God, you're beautiful, Darlene!"

"God, you're sexy, David," I whispered in his ear.

He got hard again.

"Three times in a couple hours. I'm impressed."

"I've been saving up."

I'm pretty sure he had a one-night stand with Stacy, the busgirl. But she left town weeks ago, when her boyfriend came back, and anyway I'm not as jealous of her as I was of Becky. And, yeah, I had the thing with Jimmy, so I guess I don't have a right to object to how David amused himself in my absence. The important thing is that he still wants me at least as much as I want him.

The logistics of shower sex are tricky, especially since neither of us had ever had sex standing up before. Finally, he had to hold my butt and lean me against the wall. I did my best not to consider the likelihood that my parents had done it in that room. But then they've probably done it on the kitchen table, and we've all been eating meals and doing homework there for years.

David and I ended up laughing at how awkward it was, then we switched to manual, which meant we could kiss again. I almost said we could wait until we live together again, but I don't want to think too far into the future. Even summer feels a long way off. I'm just grateful we have what we have now, perfect in its imperfection, just like us.


	35. Peppermint

I waited hours for Darlene to come home last night. She and Becky had the evening shift at the diner, but she should've been home by nine. I was especially annoyed because we were supposed to have the house to ourselves. Her parents would be out all night, staying over at the Lanford Inn, since the baby was due in a week and this was their last free weekend for awhile. I thought it was sweet that they still have date nights. Darlene thought it was a little disgusting but she was glad we'd have privacy for the first time in three weeks. Even D.J. would be gone, since he was meeting friends at the movie theater.

So I went down to the basement to wait for her. And I waited and waited. I hoped she and Becky hadn't had another fight. Those are hard on me because I care about both girls, but sometimes I can make peace between them.

I thought about heading up to D.J.'s room and giving up on spending time with Darlene. But I knew she'd be annoyed I didn't wait for her, particularly if she had a good excuse. So I ended up drawing sketches for a story Darlene wrote soon after she got into art school, about an old woman who looks at a picture of herself when she was young. Darlene had a copy of the issue of the literary journal where it was published, so I took it off the shelf and reread it. Just like in the old days, her words made pictures in my head that I had to get down on paper. I didn't have my sketchpad, but I figured she wouldn't mind if I borrowed some typing paper. My good drawing pencils were also upstairs, but one of her number twos would do.

The time passed more pleasantly and more quickly now, but I still kept looking at my watch. It was almost midnight when she staggered in.

"Davy! You're here!"

"Yeah, I'm here. Where the hell have you been?"

"I have been drinking with my dear sister."

I dropped the pencil and stared at her. "Oh my God! You two went to the Lobo? Even Becky isn't 21 yet!"

She shook her head. "We got drunk in the privacy of the diner."

"The diner? Your mom doesn't have a liquor license."

"No, but she does have a mean streak that makes her buy alcohol for a sobriety anniversary." 

"She bought your grandmother alcohol?" Mrs. Harris has a little drinking problem.

"No, she got it for Leon. And the Beckster and I had to protect him, right? "

"Couldn't you have just poured it down the sink?"

"That wouldn't have been as much fun as pouring it down my throat." She closed the door behind her and swayed over to the foot of the bed. "So, Davy, you wanna fool around?"

"Not right now."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. You always want to fool around."

"Only when you're sober," I muttered.

She frowned. "This is like when I was experimenting with drugs, isn't it? You're too straight-edge to touch someone who's not."

"That's not it."

"What is it then?"

"I want you to be present, including emotionally and mentally, when we make love."

"I'm here. And how do you know that it's not heightening my senses?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure vodka is a real mood-enhancer."

"It's peppermint Schnapps. See?" She leaned over so I could smell her breath.

"Yum."

"Fine, if you don't want me, leave."

I sighed and got out of bed. I had enough arguments with drunks growing up, until I learned to keep my mouth shut around my parents.

I got as far as the door before I heard her exclaim, "Davy, this is beautiful!"

I turned and saw she was looking at the typing paper. "It's for your story. You know, 'Kodachrome.' " She hadn't known that that was an old Paul Simon song and was annoyed when her mother told her. But by then her friend Beth had published it and it was too late to change it.

She started crying. "Davy, you are so sweet!"

I was annoyed that she kept calling me Davy, but I couldn't let her cry. I came back to bed and took her in my arms.

"I love you, Davy."

I kissed her forehead. "I love you too, Dar."

"No wonder Becky is jealous. "

"She's jealous?" There were times this past year when I've wondered if Becky had a little crush on me to match the one I have on her, but I couldn't imagine her admitting it to Darlene, no matter how drunk they got.

"Yeah, because even though Mark is gentle and sweet—"

"Since when?"

"Not to the general public, but to Becky. Gentle and sweet and effing gorgeous—"

"Is that Becky's opinion or yours?"

"Both, but we agreed you have subtle good looks, despite your hair."

"Wow, that's incredibly flattering."

"Plus you got Mark's share of the Healy brains and neither of us runs out of things to talk to you about."

"Um, OK."

"So when he lost interest in sex last year, she sort of wondered what the point of their marriage was. But I suppose she told you that during your bonding."

"Uh, we didn't talk about their sex life much."

"Well, things are better now, and they're still having it more than we are."

"Well, they are married."  


"Yeah, but she envies how you and I have a fuller relationship. I told her if she loves Mark, she can bring out the best in him, like Mom did with Dad."

"And like you do with me."

"Yeah, right. When we lived together, you had no ambition. Then as soon as I dumped you, you became valedictorian."

"Not exactly. And anyway, my best art is because of you."

"Except for the mermaid mural at the diner."

I shook my head and then I kissed her. She tasted like a candy cane.

"Are you sure you don't want to fool around?"

"I'll cuddle you till you fall asleep."

"Sweet Davy," she murmured, nestling closer against me.

I dropped off not long after her, so I decided to nap for a bit before going upstairs. D.J. was probably home by then, but I'd go into his room as quietly as I could.

I woke to Darlene nuzzling my neck. "David?"

I opened my eyes. "You're not drunk anymore?"

"I slept it off I guess. I mean, part of being drunk is not knowing how drunk you are. Besides I had a dream."

"A bad dream or a sex dream?" I stroked her hair, since it seemed appropriate in either case.

"Neither. It was about Moth Woman. And she was riding a rocket."

"Sounds like a sex dream to me."

"Maybe if you dreamed it." Then she put her hand on my crotch and kissed me. The peppermint had faded, but she still tasted good.

In that not fully awake state, we started making love. All of it was lovemaking, even before we got to the sex. Slowly yet intently undressing each other, exploring each other.

When I caressed her breasts, she said, "They're still not Moth-Woman-size."

"They're perfect. Like all of you." And then I kissed them.

We were awake enough to remember the condom in time. She's on the Pill now, but she's told me it takes her body awhile to readjust. And even though I used a condom with Stacy, I still want to get tested before I give up on using condoms with Darlene.

I entered her while we were lying on our sides. It worked with the slower movements, although she had to steady me with her hand. I used one of my hands to stroke her face and her hair. Stroking above and below, until she came. Then she rolled onto her back and pulled me on top of her in that way she has, claiming me, letting me claim her.

"My Davy, " she murmured.

"My Dar!" I gasped as I came.

Then we hugged each other tight as I lay on top of her. I wanted to hold her like that, have her hold me, the rest of the night.

But a minute or two later someone banged on the door. "Darlene? David? Are you in there?"

"David, could you please get off me so that I can ensure that my baby sister will never have to have D.J. for a brother?"


	36. Kodachrome

"When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school...."

David wasn't singing loudly, just to himself, and I know he wasn't doing it to annoy me, but I was sitting right next to him, so I turned and glared at him.

"Sorry. I have it stuck in my head."

"So do I, and you're not helping." I also had a hangover, although some of that was stress. After all, my middle-aged mother had gone into labor a week early.

I didn't know that when I pushed David off me, threw on my robe, and ran to the basement door, prepared to punish D.J. for interrupting. OK, David and I had just finished sex, but we were still in the post-coital cuddling time. I was not in the mood for blackmail. However, when I yanked open the door, I saw D.J. crying at the foot of the stairs. An admittedly immature fourteen-year-old crying like a little kid.

So even though I demanded, "What do you want?", I didn't threaten him.

"Darlene, Mom's having the baby! Early!"

Behind the only slightly ajar door, I could hear David saying, "D.J., it's OK. This is her fourth birth and sometimes later babies come early." My boyfriend had of course been devouring baby books. I know he still wants kids, but this was also because he wanted to help and understand Mom. (I told him it would take more than Dr. Spock's latest revised edition for that.)

"But she's 43!" D.J. sobbed.

I hesitated and then I went over and hugged D.J. "Mom will be fine. She's tough and strong. You go upstairs and change out of your pajamas. Oh, and get your Game Boy and some shoes. I'll drive us to the hospital."

"I'll drive," David said, and I remembered that if I sped and the cops stopped us, they might test my blood alcohol level. I'd had a few hours to sleep it off, but David was right. We couldn't risk it right now.

"Thanks," I said towards the door. Then I let go of D.J. "Hurry up."

"Thanks, Darlene! And David!" D.J. ran upstairs.

I went back in the room and said, "Um, do we have time to shower?" I didn't want to show up at the hospital reeking of sex. David blushed, so I added, "Separately I mean."

He nodded. "You go first. I'll straighten the room."

I shook my head. I doubted that the first thing that my dad would do when he came home was police the room for evidence of unwed frolicking. Mom might've but she would obviously be distracted for awhile. Still, I know that David likes to do housework when he's stressed, and I think he was more worried about Mom than he let on to D.J. I kissed his cheek and then went up to my parents' bathroom.

While David was showering, I got dressed, grabbed my notebook, and then got David's sketchpad from the boys' bedroom. I want to collaborate with David again, not necessarily comics but me writing, him drawing. His pictures of my story are so good, different than how he drew a couple years ago but better I think. And it makes me want to expand "Kodachrome" into a novella, not just a short story. I'll give it a better title though.

"...They give us those nice bright colors. They give us the greens of summers. Makes you think all the world's a sunny day."

I looked over at the doorway and glared at Jackie.

"What? It was on the car radio. I'm sorry it's not that riot grrrl crap that you kids listen to."

I shook my head. I was not in the mood to debate music.

Jackie sat across from me, next to D.J., who looked like he was absorbed in his videogame, but I knew that that was his method of escape. His creative outlets are less portable than mine and David's, and probably involve animal sacrifice. "How's she doing?"

I shrugged. "They haven't told us much. Just that she's 'progressing.' "

"Progression is good."

"As opposed to regression? Would that be her body sucking the baby back up into her?"

David winced but kept sketching.

"I wish I could've been with her. I was with her when D.J. was born."

"Yeah, I saw the photos. Nice perms."

"It was the early '80s!" Jackie said defensively.

"Where's Andy?" David asked.

"With Fred," Jackie said quietly. She's still getting used to Fred having moved out, even though that was what she wanted. I know she feels like a failure, her marriage ending after only a year, but I think it's better that they cut their losses. "Where are Becky and Mark?"

David blushed a little as he said, "They're on their way." He'd told me that Mark yelled at him for interrupting during sex. "I had a real hard time not defending myself, especially when he started questioning my manhood."

I'd kissed his cheek and said, "We know Mark is an idiot. And you're probably more potent than he is, given the opportunity."

David shook his head, "Thanks, Darlene. Now I have to jerk off before we can leave."

I looked down and saw that he was as susceptible as ever, this time probably picturing "the opportunity." "Well, do it fast. I don't want to have to explain to Mom later why we didn't show up until after the baby was born."

But the three of us still got to the hospital before anyone else, and that was with David driving only five miles above the limit, in the middle of the night, when the roads were almost empty. "Darlene, I think the cops only allow you to speed for a birth if the pregnant woman is in the car."

"Then if we get stopped, tell them I'm pregnant."

"Are you two being safe?"

"Shut up, D.J.!" I yelled towards the backseat.

Mom still hadn't given birth by the time Mark and Becky showed up. The first thing Becky said, before I could tease them, was, "Darlene, did you call Crystal?"

"Why would I call Crystal?"

"She's one of Mom's best friends. And she's the baby's, um."

"Step-grandmother," Jackie said immediately.

"Right. And she was at the shower."

"Along with the entire Lanford AARP membership," I said.

"Dad and Grandpa Ed don't get get along too good," D.J. said without looking up from his Game Boy.

"Besides, if I called Crystal, then I'd have to call Nancy and Anne-Marie and Bonnie and...."

"Bonnie's on the road with Duke," Jackie said.

"Let's just keep this in the immediate family," David said, which was funny because he was the only one of us not related by blood or marriage.

"You're the baby's brother-in-law's brother," Mark pointed out, which impressed me, that he could figure that one out so quickly.

"I'm more of a Conner than you are," David said defensively.

"Why? Aren't you going to keep your maiden name?"

Jackie held up both hands and said in her "cop voice," "Gentlemen, please. This is not the time or place."

Mark scowled and took a seat as far from David as he could get. Becky sat next to him and held his hand.

I thought about holding David's hand, but I didn't want to seem like I was imitating her. Besides, David was still drawing and I decided to get some writing done, as hard as it was to focus.

_"Marlene waited impatiently in the waiting room...."_

After what felt like hours but must've been still morning, Dad came in, wearing scrubs and a stunned expression. We all leapt to our feet, David and I tossing aside our pads and pencils, and, not simultaneously, everyone demanded, "Well???"

"She had a healthy little girl," Dad murmured.

Even though he hadn't said anything surprising, I burst into tears. David wordlessly took my hand and led me out of the room, leaving my family, and our pencils and paper, behind. He led me outside and we walked a block past the hospital before we stopped and he put his arms around me. I didn't try to explain myself or thank him. I just hugged him tight. He stroked my hair even after my tears stopped.

We didn't say anything, although I thought of telling him I love him. But I knew he knew.

When I'd pulled myself together, we walked back.

There were too many of us to see Mom and the baby at once. Jackie got to go first, which felt right. I thought of how Baby Sis would have her for an aunt, not quite the same aunt Becky and I had, but still a role model, or at least a bad example.

Mark and Becky went next. I thought of how for the baby, they would always be an old married couple, probably with kids that would be like her little brothers and sisters. She would never know the Mark that was a bad boy on a motorcycle, the Becky that was a good girl eager to rebel.

David and I were supposed to go next, but then the waiting room door burst open and a shrill voice said, "Grandma's here!"

Becky and I looked at each other and I shook my head.

"Of course it didn't occur to any of you to call me, but luckily I stopped by your house and since no one was home, I knew with my motherly intuition that Roseanne must've miscalculated her due date. She was never very good at math."

D.J. stood up and said, "Come on, Grandma, let's go see Mom and the baby."

I shot him a look of gratitude for his self-sacrifice. He nodded and led our loving but annoying grandmother out of the room, but not before she snapped a couple pictures with her, yes, Nikon camera.

Dad was slumped in his chair, as if Grandma Bev's arrival completed his exhaustion. I let go of David's hand and went over to sit by my father.

"Hey."

He looked up. "Hey."

"How do you feel?" I asked, even though neither of us likes to talk about emotions.

"Good. Proud. Drained."

I nodded. "Yeah. Mom is OK I presume?"

"Yeah, sorry, I should've said that when I made the announcement."

"I figured you'd say something if she weren't. And she's really strong."

"All the women in this family are strong."

I smiled a little. "Baby Sis will be, too."

"Yeah. Uh, you missed it when I told everybody, but we picked out a name. And please, hold back your snark till later, OK?"

"Oh God, what drug-induced crazy name did my mother choose? It's something hippie, right? Like Moonbeam or Starchild?"

"No, it's a perfectly fine name, although not usually a first name."

"Eisenhower?"

Dad snorted. "Like she'd name a kid after a Republican."

"Roosevelt?" That wouldn't be bad. We could call her "Little Rosey."

"No, it's Harris."

I shook my head. I could see some Yuppie or Preppie, someone with money, choosing a maiden name as a first name, but we're white trash. "Harris Conner?"

"Yeah."

I bit my lip, although I couldn't help thinking the kids at school would call her "Harry," or worse, "Hairy."

Dad gave me a side-hug. "You're going to be a good big sister. Well, not that you aren't already."

"I promise I won't slam Harris's head into the wall."

"I appreciate that. And luckily D.J. has a hard head."

David and I left for Mom's room as Grandma asked, "So, Becky, when are you and Mark going to have a baby?" I knew Becky would vent to me and/or David about it later. She still wants kids but I think she's going to finish college first. She's still so young, not even 21, as David pointed out last night.

Mom looked good, proud, and drained, too, only more so of course. I remembered her telling me when I first got my period and I felt like my life was over that I was now "part of the whole cycle of things, you know, the moon and the water, and the seasons." And she was glad for her periods because they meant she got three good things out of them: me, Becky, and D.J. And now there was a fourth good thing nestled in her arms.

Harris looked like Andy a year ago, tiny and red and all that. I don't get sentimental about babies, or much else. But I liked thinking about how this creature would grow up to be one of us. I mean, there was also the part of me that felt sorry for her being part of this family. But dysfunctional as we are, there are good things about us, as a group and as individuals.

"Oh God, you look amazing like that!" David exclaimed.

"Go grab your sketchbook, My Lad, and draw me and Harris as mother and child."

David didn't pick up on her sarcasm, so he let go of my hand and raced back to the waiting room. Mom and I looked at each other and laughed.

Then I said, "Congratulations."

"Thank you. Did your dad tell you the name?"

"Yes, but I've promised to wait 48 hours before telling you how stupid it is."

"I appreciate that. Do you want to hold her?"

"You know I'm not good with babies."

"Humor me, Darlene."

I sighed and came closer and took Harris, holding her carefully. I quietly asked, "Is it weird to push a whole human being out of you?"

"All in a day's work."

"Right." I know I could never do it, even if I wanted to. Thank God David and I use two forms of birth control, not to mention living a couple hours apart most of the time.

David came back while I was still holding Harris, his sketchpad and pencil in hand, and he drew his breath in sharply at the sight.

"Don't get ideas, Maurice," I muttered.

"Yeah," Mom chimed in. "I'm too busy to help out with grandkids right now."

I smiled a little that Mom was as usual making it all about her, but I figured she was entitled to today.


	37. Dear Darlene

_June 30, 1995_

_Dear Darlene,_

_I miss you. The first couple days here, I felt lonely. Even though I'm an introvert, I get really attached to the people I care about, and I care about you and your family, yes, even D.J. And I wonder how much Harris has grown since I left. (I don't think the name is that bad. It symbolizes the strength of your mom's side of the family. Plus wasn't it the name of the dapper cop who was a novelist on_ Barney Miller?)

_Anyway, it was weird at first to be away from all of you, and Lanford itself. I know you hate Lanford, but it is my home, and every place holds memories for me. Not just the house, but the high school, the thrift store, the Buy & Bag, the drugstore, the motels. OK, the memories aren't all good. But they're part of who I am._

_Here in Paris, I have no personal history, but I'm surrounded by other people's history. I especially like to think of all the artists who've lived and worked here. When I take an Art History class, I won't have to just look at bad reproductions in a textbook. I'll have seen the real things in museums, and in some cases the actual cityscapes that inspired paintings._

_Yes, I still plan to go to Lanford CC. Not just because of Becky, although it will be nice to have a friend on campus. Although this trip has been important to me, a chance to spend some time on my own, grow a little, I feel like after my vacation, my place will be back home, helping your mom with Harris and the housework._

_No, I didn't really mind Mark's crack about me being "the good daughter." I feel like Becky's got enough to deal with, with marriage to Mark, fixing up the trailer, and going to college. And you've got your life in Chicago and you're not good with babies and housework. I'm domestic and I'll still have a life of my own, with school, The World of Pizza, and my art._

_I like the idea of collaborating with you when I get back home. Even after you go back to Chicago, we could keep going. You visit often enough that you could bring me whatever you've written and then I can illustrate it by your next visit. It won't be the intense, constant production of our comics, but maybe it'll be better if we go slower._

_Meanwhile, I take my sketchbook everywhere, even more than at home. Sometimes I copy the work in the museums, and sometimes I just draw what's in front of me. Yeah, I sit in cafes and order as little as I can, so I can people-watch and draw them. I guess I could do that back in Lanford, but I'd get even weirder looks than I do here. Or maybe I will when I return._

_Yes, I wish we could've gone together. I hope to take you here someday, when we have enough money. Maybe when I'm done with college. I want to show you everything I've seen and also see what you discover. I realize it won't be the same for you. A book is a book. Even a reprint contains the power of the original. You won't care as much about who wrote what where. But I want to do all the corny tourist stuff with you, like the Eiffel Tower, and hear you snark about it and then admit you feel some of the magic of the City of Lights._

_I want to make love to you in this city of romance. Every time I see a couple holding hands or kissing, I miss you more. I want to be inside you in a land where we're the foreigners. And, yeah, French-kiss you every hour in France._

_And, yeah, we can go to Italy and eat "real pizza" if you want. Or England, or wherever you want to go. I don't want you to feel like I have to stay in Lanford my whole life. Harris will grow up, go to school, and I'll be done with college by the time she's in kindergarten. You will be, too, of course, since you got a two-year head start on me. It's hard to imagine our lives in five years, but I hope we'll still be together, with no break-ups along the way._

_I thought you might dump me for wanting to go to Europe. I understand, we'd just gotten back together, and a month does feel like a long time. Thank you for finally understanding how important my dreams are. I wish I could share this one with you, but maybe it's important that I have something of and on my own, like you have art school in Chicago. I'm sorry I tried to keep you in Lanford a couple years ago. I understand better now._

_I'm getting by OK with my phrasebook. It covers the basics and sometimes I can find people who speak English. I did take two years of French in high school, but people speak too fast for me to keep up. It helps with signs though, since I can take my time with those._

_I've enclosed some pictures I've done of you, in different styles. I think my favorites are the Botticelli, because of the hair, and "Darlene Descending a Staircase." Don't worry, you're not nude in any of them, in case you want to show your mom._

_It's weird to think I'm in Paris because of my mom. After not calling or writing for a couple years, she sent me that letter congratulating me and saying how proud she is of me for graduating and planning to go to college. And she sent that check that's enough to cover my trip but not college. I know she's got a rich boyfriend now, so she probably got the money from him, but I think maybe your mom called and guilted her into it. I don't expect to suddenly have a great relationship with my mom, but I am grateful to her._

_Sorry this letter is so rambling. It's hard to know what to say, in a different way than when I'd write to you in Chicago. I love you more than ever and I look forward to seeing you, holding you again, but I want to enjoy my last couple weeks of my solo adventure._

_Je vous adore,_  
_David_


	38. Dear David

_July 6, 1995_

_Dear David,_

_I made it through another Fourth of July barbecue. I try to tune out the sight and smell of burnt flesh and just concentrate on my potato salad._

__

_I'm guessing you won't be going to any Bastille Day BBQs. I can't picture the French really celebrating anything. They're supposed to be rude and cynical. But then you like people like that, don't you?_

__

_I do miss you and wish I was there, and not just to get out of Lanford. But I don't think I'd get as much out of Paris as you do. After all, you're still basically the kid who found downtown Aurora exciting. It would be nice to see that look of wonder on your face again. If and when we travel together, half the fun for me will be seeing you have fun._

_I enjoyed your letter, which came yesterday. Thank you for sending it to my p.o. box. I don't want to deal with my mom or D.J. reading it first. (They still might snoop and find it afterwards, but that's one of the risks of living here, as you must know by now.)_

_Your art is amazing, although I always feel weird when I'm the subject. At least with the Duchamp pastiche, I don't have to feel like it looks better than I do. Still very cool though._

_I've been writing some, mostly when I get out of the house. Harris is a fat, cheerful baby, but she's still a baby and sometimes she just cries and cries. Not only is the noise annoying, but it makes me feel helpless, like there's nothing I can do for her._

_Mom is still working a few hours a week at the diner. She'll probably go back to her old schedule when you return and can babysit. Sometimes Becky comes over and sits with Harris, although I think that's partly to get a break from Mark and the trailer._

_I help out with the baby, more than I do with Andy, but I refuse to be alone with her. I can't take that kind of responsibility. What if I drop her, or what if she chokes on her feet? Babies are too fragile, and I've spent most of my life not worrying about whether I'm hurting anyone._

_I feel bad about how I treated you the last year and a half. The drugs and the secrets and Jimmy and everything. Sometimes I wonder how you can love me after all that. I want to make it up to you somehow, but then I find myself slipping into old habits, like telling you what to do, like not wanting you to go away for a month._

_Sometimes Becky and I talk, when it's just us three sisters sitting around the house. (D.J. spends most of his time at the pool by the park, no doubt perving out on girls in bikinis.) Harris doesn't contribute much to the conversation yet, but she's a good listener. Becky and I talk about our plans for the future, although it's hazy for both of us. She doesn't want to live in a trailer park the rest of her life, but she agrees it's good to get some independence from Mom. We've warned Harris that she's going to have to establish boundaries early. We'll stand up for her when we can, but we hope to have moved out of Lanford long before Harris has to deal with boyfriends and college and all that._

_Becky said yesterday, "I wish I'd been more help to you with David and art school and everything."_

_I shrugged. "You had your own shit to deal with."_

_I think, considering how different we are, and the larger family dynamic, we were as good sisters as we could be. And it's only since the weekend of Harris's birth, and the peppermint Schnapps, that we've started to become friends. Maybe we shouldn't have had to get drunk to get past old barriers, but that's how it is._

_Sometimes we wonder what kind of personality Harris will have. Maybe she'll be completely unlike us, and D.J. She might be really spoiled, having our parents almost to herself. Or maybe she'll be well adjusted, since they'll have had all that practice._

_She hasn't grown that much since you left, just maybe a little fatter. You make it sound like you've been gone months instead of weeks. But maybe time moves differently for you, living in a strange place with strangers. Except for Harris, I've been around these people and in this house forever. Even though I've got my life in Chicago to return to, whenever I'm here, it feels like nothing really changes, even when it does. "Plus ça change," as you Frenchies say._

_Like, Jackie has officially filed for divorce now, but, although I liked Fred and hoped he would be good for Jackie, it never really felt like he was part of the family, not in any permanent way. Jackie was always my single aunt, and now she'll be a single mother._

_Dad has probably changed the least over the years. He works hard and doesn't ask for much. Sometimes I humor him by shooting hoops, although I'm really out of practice. Maybe Harris will be a tomboy and they can watch and play sports together when he hits fifty. ___

____

__

_I hope to be in New York by then. Or maybe Paris. You and I could live on love, art, and baked goods. Is French a hard language to learn?_

_I don't know that sex would necessarily be better in Europe. Right now I'd settle for heavy petting in this basement. Or cuddling all night, like we tried to the weekend Harris was born. Meanwhile I count down the days till the family can embarrass you at O'Hare again._

_I-ay ovelay ouyay,_  
_Darlene_


	39. Coconut Trees and Edsels

"David, can you please not make my daughters look so sexy?"

"I'll try, Mrs. Conner."

I was actually going for wholesome, but putting Darlene in a halter top and short-shorts almost guarantees sexiness. And even in a poodle skirt, Becky is still panting after Mark like when she was a teenager

I didn't want to illustrate Mrs. Conner's book. Hell, I didn't want to read it. But when she heard about my new collaboration with Darlene, she said, "You should work on my story, David. It's much funnier."

It is kind of funny, although I don't think Mrs. Conner's sense of humor translates well to print. The thing is, it wasn't even supposed to be funny. It was originally supposed to be her way of dealing with grief for Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead.

Long before I met Darlene, her family turned the basement into a writing room for her mom. But Mrs. Conner was too busy with work and the kids and everything, so she never found time to write. By the time Darlene wanted me to move in, the basement was just used for storage.

Now it sits empty when Darlene is away in Chicago, since I just sleep upstairs, which makes it easier for me to help with Harris. And now Mrs. Conner has turned the basement back into a writing room.

When Mrs. Conner said her book would be autobiographical, I thought it would be about the Sixties, inspired by Mr. Garcia. Then she said it was about the family, but with details changed to protect the guilty. I hoped she wouldn't say anything too bad about me or Darlene.

She didn't say that she was going to imagine us in different situations, like _Gilligan's island._ Well, I'm myself in that one, but she's Ginger, Mr. Conner is the Skipper, Jackie is Gilligan, Mrs. Harris and Leon from the diner are the Howells, Mark, believe it or not, is the Professor, and, yes, Darlene is Mary Ann. Oh, and D.J. is a headhunter.

"I don't know if I'm relieved or not that I'm not in it," Becky told me when she read it.

She made it into Chapter Two. That one is a satire of fifties television. Darlene is the absent daughter, so I just drew a framed black and white photo of her. Poor "Rebecca" is desperate to go steady with Mark.

"I'm a 21-year-old married woman, Mother. And I would never play dumb to get a guy."

"That's the point, Becky. I'm satirizing the attitudes of the shows I grew up with."

I'm pretty sure I don't remember seeing any French-Canadian foreign exchange students on Nick at Nite, but I don't bother arguing about even that. I just put a beret and an artist's smock on Davide (as she spells it for that French-Canadian pronunciation).

"Do I seem wacky to you, David?" Jackie asked me yesterday. She's not too happy with how her sister is portraying her so far, now the zany neighbor. I told her she's fun-loving.

D.J. is the only one happy with the casting. "First a cannibal and then a rock & roll star that all the chicks dig!"

Harris isn't in the book yet, but I guess you can't really put a baby on a desert island, unless Mrs. Conner is going to have the Skipper knock up Ginger. And you didn't see babies much on '50s TV, except for Little Ricky. She did add a cute little boy named Stinky, but I don't think he's based on anyone we know. Well, maybe Mr. Conner's half-brother Little Ed, since he's about four now, but we don't see Crystal and her family very often these days. I drew Stinky to look like D.J. does in old photos.

I don't hate doing the illustrations. I enjoy the challenge of trying to get the looks right, including sets and scenery. The fashions of course. And it really isn't my fault that Dawn Wells dressed like that.

"You wish I dressed like that, don't you, David? " Darlene demanded when she first saw my sketches. "Including the ponytails."

"It's a cute look," I said defensively.

"I bet you jerked off to my Rodbell's commercial!"

I tried not to blush. In my defense, I was fifteen and she was the girl I couldn't figure out how to turn into my girlfriend. OK, gingham and pigtails wasn't a great look for her, but I got excited every time she was on my TV screen that spring.

Not surprisingly, she thinks her mother's book is terrible. It's not just that it's taking time away from our collaboration, although that's part of it. She thinks her mother should write about real life.

But the book is about escape, to simpler, less realistic times and places. Maybe Mrs. Conner doesn't want to write about her real kids, much as she loves them, Harris included. And although the diner is important to her, it's understandable if she'd rather be a movie star.

And it's not like she's writing all the time, just a chapter a month. Real life keeps her pretty busy, although we all pitch in. I've got Lanford CC and my busboy job at World of Pizza, plus my relationship with Darlene. But if sitting a cute little baby and drawing coconut trees and Edsels make Mrs. Conner's life easier, I'm happy to oblige. Plus I do have trouble saying no to people.


	40. Holiday Smear

Mom's book is getting out of hand. David, who's still illustrating it, thinks I'm making too big a deal out of it, especially since Mom is only doing a chapter a month, but I say that's still too much. And now she's ruining the holidays.

OK, I'm the first to admit that we're not exactly a Norman Rockwell family, but Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas are special, memorable times for us. There would be plenty for her to write about if she just stuck to the truth. But here are the tales she's chosen to tell instead, and to rope poor David into making pictures for:

Halloween, which is supposed to be her favorite holiday, turned into an acid trip that includes Ed McMahon, Ouija, the spirit of Jerry Garcia, and a dance number. OK, she did once write a musical about murdering her family, but that made a weird kind of sense. This is just a mess. Worst of all, she made Harris into a boy born on Halloween, just so she could name the baby after Jerry Garcia. That actually bugged me more than her making me Mary Ann, which is saying something.

You know what really happened on Halloween? She got Nancy and Leon to make everyone think they'd fallen in love. I even fell for it, because I figure Leon isn't any weirder a choice than Arnie, and maybe Leon was bi-curious or something. Poor Jackie felt really awkward around them at work. And Mom got her revenge for being pranked the last couple years.

The Thanksgiving chapter is just as divorced from reality. What really happened is D.J.'s teacher, who's one-eighth Chippewa, had the class do a play that showed a more balanced view of the first Thanksgiving. In Mom's version, the full-blooded teacher of some unspecified tribe has the kids present a play where the Native Americans are slaughtered _Pulp Fiction_ style, yeah, very historically accurate. We Conners eat it up but the other parents are offended. And I come across as some pseudo-intellectual asshole, saying stuff like "Violence is the only truth that can cleanse the corrupt bourgeois establishment of its hypocrisy and inequality."

Then Mom puts the family in a fantasy setting again, but not one from TV this time. Instead we're a bunch of stuffy pilgrims. Oh, and David enjoys flogging himself. (He refused to draw that.)

Later in that chapter, we have D.J.'s teacher and his family over for the Thanksgiving dinner. I pointed out, "Mom, you don't even like to have your own mother to the house. And D.J. would hide in his room if you invited any of his teachers over." She dismissed my criticism and said she was making a point about diversity. Whatever.

We did have Grandma over, and Nana Mary. No Fred this time. And not much drama for a change. Even my vegetarianism is taken for granted now.

For Christmas, she wrote a tacky December wedding for Leon and his boyfriend Scott. They had a simple, tasteful ceremony that Mom wasn't even invited to, and Leon definitely wouldn't choose Mom as wedding planner, especially if she hired male strippers and Judy and Liza imitators.

The main notable thing about Christmas was that it was Harris's first and she and Andy got spoiled a lot. I didn't have much money to spend, so I bought them each a couple boardbooks to nibble on and learn about literature the way I did.

I can't wait to see what Mom cooks up for New Year's. Maybe there will be a rift in the time-space continuum and 1996 will take us even deeper into an alternative reality. Meanwhile I resolve to keep writing, even though she's stolen my favorite illustrator.


	41. Peace-Making

"Oh, hi, David. What brings you by?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something serious."

"Oh. Well, come on in."

"Thanks."

Becky retreated further into the kitchen as I entered the trailer. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

We sat in silence at the dinner table a couple steps away until she asked, "What's this about?"

I took a deep breath. "This isn't easy for me to talk about. It's about relationships."

She looked understandably puzzled. A year or more ago, we talked about relationships all the time. Well, romantic relationships and family relationships but not our own relationship. I hesitated and then blurted out, "You see, Becky, it's not easy for a guy when the woman he loves is more successful than he is."

She shook her head. "I didn't think you were so old-fashioned, David. And besides, I've been thinking it over and it's not like Darlene is that successful, not yet anyway. OK, so she had that big job offer, but she didn't take it. And she still has to borrow money from our parents."

I looked at her. "I'm not talking about me and Darlene."

"Oh." She sighed. "Look, Mom already talked to me about this, but he'll get used to the idea. And you're the one who told me that if he feels left behind by my going to college, that's his problem. "

"Becky, there's a huge difference between Lanford CC and Northwestern, especially if you're going to be a doctor."

"I haven't decided on Pre-Med. It's just something I'm considering."

"Mrs. Conner says you haven't discussed this with Mark."

"She's wrong. He knows exactly what my plans are."

"But discussion is a two-way street."

She sighed. "I tried getting him to open up about his feelings after dinner tonight, but he said he was going over to Roy's to watch TV."

Mark's friend Royal has a TV much bigger than any that could fit in the trailer. In fact, it's bigger than the trailer.

"Well, please try again, when he gets home."

"OK, I will. Thanks, David."

"You're welcome."

"So you're OK about Darlene's job offer?"

I shrugged. "It does feel weird, and sure, I wish I made $30,000 a year, especially since I'm not having any luck finding a place I can afford." Mr. Conner thinks it's time I move out. After all, I'm nineteen and out of high school. Not to mention that I've traveled on my own in a foreign country. But he's given me a couple months to find an apartment.

I continued, "But I am proud of her, for getting the offer and for not being materialistic enough to take it and drop out."

"Who would've guessed Darlene would end up loving school?"

"Yeah." I do envy her that. I learned last year that I can do well in school if I work hard, but I don't get as much out of it as she does. Maybe I'd feel different if I'd been accepted into art school, and sometimes I think of applying again, but it's hard enough moving out of the Conners'. Moving back to Chicago is too big a step right now.

"I want to love school like that again. So that's why I want to do something big. Can you understand that?"

"Yeah." I just hoped Mark could.

When I came home, I snuck down to the basement. Darlene was home, which didn't just mean that her mother wouldn't be writing.

As we cuddled, I told her how it went at the trailer. "...So she'll try. How did it go at Roy's?"

"Have you seen the TV over there? And the mini-fridge in the living room? If I grow up to be a bachelor, I am so moving in."

I nuzzled her neck. "Does that mean you were too busy being one of the guys to talk to Mark about his feelings?"

"Hey, I can multi-task. I told him that it's going to take Becky years to do undergrad and then med school, and he can be the big provider in the meantime."

"You're very good at reaffirming the Healy manhood when you want to."

"And you're very good at making Conner women a little less self-absorbed."

Then we did very heavy petting before I snuck up to my room.


	42. Nipsey

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd taken the job at that advertising agency. I still might've been sitting in first class, but probably not because my family snuck in here on a vacation to Florida.

Sure, I was tempted by the job offer. Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of money, especially for a nineteen-year-old who only a couple years ago was making minimum wage at Buy & Bag. But because I am only nineteen, I feel like I can wait to finish college. And after all, I've got just a little over a year left. I want my degree, my BA in Creative Writing, while I'm still young. If I quit to take a full-time job, I'll probably never go back.

And I don't think coming up with advertising slogans and jingles is the best use of my creativity. OK, yes, I've wasted the equivalent of years of my life watching commercials, but I never felt inspired to make any.

And yet, the money was tempting. I still think about it. It would mean independence, not having to take money from my dad, or anyone. After a lifetime of being working class, I would be financially comfortable. But I'm not sure about emotionally comfortable.

I still go round and round in circles on it, even as I laugh along with the family to Nipsey Russell's poetry on the headphones. They're all excited about this trip, and sometimes I am, too, despite myself. And other times I wonder why I agreed to go.

We wouldn't even be on this airplane if Dad hadn't agreed to build a prison. Yeah, talk about selling out your ideals. My father, the former hippie, whom I happen to know for a fact toked up with Mom and Jackie a couple years ago (David told me about finding the three of them stoned in the kitchen), is joining the side of law and order.

But I know it's not any simpler for him than for me. After all, he was already working for the government, at the City garage, and maybe that was more of a sellout. At least the prison gig will get him back into construction, which is where he started out, before he saw his dream fail with the bike shop.

He got a very nice settlement when he left the City, and Mom thought they should spend it on taking everyone to Disney World. D.J. bizarrely didn't want to miss a week of school, but David and Becky didn't mind. As for me, I love art college, but even I wanted a break from school. (I worked at the radio station during Spring break last week.)

Part of why I'm going is because of how everyone, even David, treated me after I told them about my job offer. We were at a fancy restaurant. This wasn't part of Dad's settlement. Mom got a small inheritance from some relative we hardly ever see. And we were talking about money, and I ended up mentioning the copywriter offer, which I hadn't intended, especially since I turned it down.

Anyway, they were all uncomfortable about it, except for Jackie, who thought I was joking. And then the next day when I was just being my usual mocking, snarky self, everyone, particularly Dad, reacted like I was looking down on them. So I could hardly say I didn't want to go to Florida, even if the entire Disney organization gives me a toothache, all that creepy happiness.

On the other hand, I don't see myself as spending every waking moment with the family. I hope to get some time alone with David, although it'll probably be like at home, sneaking moments here and there. It's strange to think we used to live together and saw so much of each other we got sick of togetherness. Someday I'd like to find a better balance. Maybe when I'm done with college, he could move back to Chicago, near but not with me. He could go to my art school or get a job, or whatever he wants to do. But, yeah, that's over a year away, and I know as well as anyone how much can change in a year.


	43. Rides

Disney World was fun. I'd never been to any amusement park before, and this is one of the most famous of all. I felt like a kid, running around in the Florida sunshine.

I shared a room with D.J. and we hung out a lot. He's closer to Mark usually, but Mark was spending time with Becky. For the first time, I felt like D.J. is as much my honorary kid brother as Mark's.

It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with Darlene, but she was in a bad mood the first few days. I'd try and be affectionate with her, or try to get her to join in the fun, and she'd just be negative, even for her.

It started when I called her from Mr. and Mrs. Conner's hotel bathroom the first morning. I rang up the bathroom for the bedroom she was sharing with Mrs. Harris, Jackie, and Andy.

"What are you wearing?" I playfully teased.

"A murderous scowl for the idiot who made me get out of the tub."

I hung up quickly.

I tried to hang out with both her and D.J., but she didn't want to go on any rides and he did. She threatened to withhold "rides" from me, so I tried just sitting around, but I figured we didn't fly 1200 miles just to sit around. So I gave up on her and just hung out with D.J.

By the last day at the park, she'd mellowed enough that she said, "OK, David, you win. I'll do the dark rides with you."

A dark ride is not, as you might think, considering Darlene suggested it, a ride with a depressing or twisted theme. It's just an indoor ride that uses visual effects involving light and darkness, and certain kinds of paint, sometimes fluorescent. I was interested in this as an artist, but the rides tend to be slower, tamer, cornier.

"I'm not going on that lame kiddie ride," D.J. said when Darlene got in line for It's a Small World.

I was surprised by her choice myself. I mean, why would the most cynical person I know want to go on a ride like that? I decided she figured it was the most snarkworthy. At least she was willing to have some fun, even if it was making fun of other people's fun.

"Fine. Then go have a day of grown-up, sophisticated amusement with Mark."

D.J. gave me a pleading look, but I think he knew that this time I was going to pick Darlene.

She did snark about the ride, including the stereotypical children and the repetitive song. But she whispered in my ear as she snuggled up against me, and she was funny, and right, so I didn't mind.

We kissed in between commenting on the historical inaccuracies and political incorrectness of the Pirates of the Caribbean, although she did admit that the music was catchy.

It was on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride that things got a little wilder. I should've been suspicious when she let me drive. She put her hand on my knee and worked her way up. I know crashing into things is part of MTWR, but I was a very distracted driver. When she squeezed the crotch of my jeans, it seemed appropriate that we went to "Hell." Disney World is a place for family entertainment and it felt like we were tarnishing that. OK, we were sort of in private, compared to some rides, and it wasn't like I was doing anything, but it's not like I tried to stop her.

When we went back out into the sunlight, me holding the souvenir bag in front of myself, she said, "Haunted Mansion?"

"OK!" I gasped.

This time I played with her breasts as much as I could in the almost darkness. It was over her clothes, but we were both getting really turned on. I was scared of getting caught, which would've been humiliating, but that did add to the excitement, in a different way than making out at home.

Sometimes we'd go on a ride and holding hands was all we could manage. (The Jungle Ride was doomed from the beginning, with its tons of people, including a guide, and outdoor setting, but we still wanted to try.). And other times, I'd get into her bra on something like Peter Pan's Flight.

Eventually we were grinding up against each other and necking in a tunnel we found after being scolded for French-kissing in Cinderella's Castle. The sign at the tunnel entrance said Employees Only, but we were too horny to care. We licked each other's necks and ears as we, well, creamed our jeans.

We wanted to go back to the hotel and change, and maybe make love on my bed before D.J. returned. But there wasn't time before we were all supposed to meet up to watch the fireworks, like Mrs. Conner had planned. So Darlene and I cleaned up in separate employee restrooms.

We behaved in front of her family, just holding hands as we ooed and awwed over the light display. But when both D.J. and Mrs. Harris said they were tired and heading back to the hotel, Darlene and I looked at each other and I knew she was thinking as I was that we weren't going to get to share a bed that night.

She led me away by the hand, as I'd led her into the park at the beginning of the week. I assumed she had a plan.

She made me wait for her while she went into a public restroom. When she came out, she was wearing the extra-large Winnie the Pooh T-shirt she'd bought earlier for a sleepshirt. And no pants with it, like it was a dress. I got another erection but managed to follow her to the Swiss Family Treehouse nearby. (When I'd suggested visiting the treehouse a couple days earlier, she said, "Not unless they have cable and a wet bar.")

"This is so wrong," I whispered as we stood in line.

"You want to try another dark ride? I figured this would be self-paced."

I shook my head.

It was late enough that the line was short. And once we started climbing, we let the other people get far ahead of us. As we made our way up and down and around and around, we looked for a good stopping place. There were a couple bedrooms, but we couldn't get at them because of the netting.

Eventually, when the crowd had not just thinned out but disappeared, Darlene rested against the railing, gazing out at the park at night. I hugged her from behind and whispered, "I'm sorry, Darlene. But we'll get together back in Lanford."

She turned her head and said, "I'm not wearing any panties and I want doggy style."

I felt suddenly dizzy, and not from the height. But I managed to undo my jeans and slide them and my jockeys down enough, while Darlene pulled up the back of her Winnie shirt to show she wasn't kidding.

As she leaned forward as if further admiring the view, bracing herself on the railing, I put one arm around her stomach as my other hand guided my erection into her.

"God, you're so hot, Darlene!" I groaned as she pulsed around me. We'd never done it without a condom before, although we'd talked about it, especially after our tests for AIDS and everything were negative. But she said two forms of birth control were a good idea, and it's not like I hate condoms. I would've used one if we'd made it back to the hotel earlier. But it was even better to be skin on skin, skin inside of skin. And she's on the Pill, so I figured we were safe enough.

Plus it was our first successful time standing up. And doggy style! Much as I missed seeing the front of her, it was wild taking her from behind in the dark.

"God, David, you are an animal!" she moaned.

"So are you!" I grunted as she rocked against me and I took her again and again, faster and hungrier.

She was hungry, too. "More, more, please, more, David, oh, oh, oh God! YES!"

I was kind of afraid someone would hear her, but I also kind of didn't care anymore. I got really quiet myself, concentrating on how this felt. I just let out one shuddering moan as I spilled into her.

Then I leaned against her and whispered, "Thanks for the ride."

She chuckled. "Thank you."

"Do you want a face ride?"

"David!" she gasped.

"Turn around if you do."

She did, dropping her shirt in back and raising it in front, so I dropped to my knees, tasting how good we were together. Even as she wrapped her legs around my shoulders, and rubbed her tanginess against my face, she whispered, "We're going to get caught! They're going to throw us into Disney Jail!"

We didn't get caught, but we had to run to catch the last tram back to the hotel.

This time I called her when we were both taking baths, talking in whispers about what we weren't wearing, and what we were bathing. Then I dried off, put on my pajamas, and crawled into bed, trying not to wake D.J., while she, maybe wearing the Winnie sleepshirt, probably tried not to wake her grandmother, aunt, and cousin.

We flew home the next day, holding hands in coach and tuning out the family as much as possible, with the help of Nipsey Russell and adult contemporary music.


	44. Blue Circle

We stared at the blue circle in silence for a minute and then she asked, "What are you going to do?"  


"Get a second opinion."  


Beth didn't laugh. "I'll go with you if you want. Unless you'd rather go with David of course."  


I shook my head. "I don't want to tell him until I figure everything out."  


"Oh. Then you're not, oh, I'm sorry."  


I knew what she was thinking. It was the same thing I would've been thinking if this had happened to one of my friends, especially a friend like me. Without looking at her, I said, "It's OK. I know I'm not maternal. And I'm only nineteen and still not done with college. I always thought that if this happened, I'd get rid of it. But it's weird. I feel different now."  


"In what way?"  


"All those corny things I never believed in and used to make fun of, I'm starting to feel them. Like this is a miracle, something magical."  


"OK."  


I didn't really expect Beth to understand. Not only isn't she pregnant, she's actually a virgin. Not that I hold that against her. She's my best friend in Chicago, and I'd deliberately chosen her to be the one there when I bought and used the home pregnancy kit. If it had been Mom, David, or even Becky, they would've too close to the situation. Beth is an outsider, although she cares of course.  


"So you're going to keep it?" she asked.  


"I think so."  


"No adoption either?"  


"No, it's mine. I couldn't give it away to strangers."  


"Well, you could have Leon and Scott adopt it." I've told her about everyone in my Lanford life, to the point that she can make jokes about them.

"Yeah, they might be better parents than me and David."  


"Are you going to raise it with David?" Beth was back to being serious again.  


"Of course. David loves kids and he's always hoped we'd have some."  


"This soon though?"  


I sighed. "Well, no. But he told me a couple years ago that if this happened, he'd marry me."  


Beth shook her head. "This all seems so old-fashioned, for you especially."  


"I know, but it feels right." It did. It does.  


I didn't try to get pregnant, at least not consciously. I did pack condoms, and David probably did, too. But I also thought we might not have any time alone, not with the family around. And I was cranky the first few days, and David actually preferred hanging out with D.J. and acting like a little kid. So I just figured there would be no sex.

And I've always been sloppy about the Pill. I don't take it every day, and it was even harder sharing a bathroom with an old woman and a toddler, both of whom would suddenly need to come in and use the toilet.

"Was the conception romantic?"  


"For some definitions of romantic."  


"Never mind. I don't think I want the details."  


"I don't think you do. But it was on the Disney World trip."  


"How did you find any privacy at the hotel with your whole family around?"  


"Um, it wasn't at the hotel."  


"Darlene! You and David had sex at the Disney World park?"  


"Well, yeah."  


"Don't you know there are cameras everywhere?"

If I'd known that, I wouldn't have even kissed him. I guess it was naive of me to think that just because a ride was dark from the customer side, no one on the employee side could see.  


"I don't think anyone saw us where it happened."  


"Don't tell me where! You've already soiled my image of Disney World."  


"Um, sorry."  


At the time, the naughtiness added to the fun. David and I were trying to see what we could get away with. And we got so worked up from making out, we had to do it, and we missed our chance at the hotel. 

The Swiss Family Treehouse wouldn't have been my first choice for sex, especially not for conception. But looking back, it feels weirdly appropriate, like we were on a desert island and trying to repopulate. Like if Fritz and Roberta in the movie got horny. OK, not very Disney, but neither is my life. 

It was intense, primal, but also beautiful, with David filling me from behind, as I looked out at the unreal world below us. And now it turned out the Magic Kingdom was even more magical than I'd realized. It had helped me and David create a whole new life.

"It's OK. And I am happy for you if this is what you want. David is a great guy, and I am glad it didn't happen with Jimmy. " 

She never liked Jimmy, but she was right that it's better that David is the father. God, yes, it's weird to think of us as parents. But I'm also really excited about it. 

I think back to the conversation we had soon after he moved in with me in Chicago. We were talking about Jackie's pregnancy and David, unasked, offered to marry me if I ever got pregnant. Of course, he might feel differently now that it's not just hypothetical. But I'm going to reassure him that it'll all work out. 

I've spent the past week figuring out details. I did see a doctor at the clinic, and I am about six weeks along, which does fit the Disney World date. The doctor said she couldn't be 100% positive this early, but I do feel different. 

The baby is due around Christmastime. That means I need to graduate in December. I can do it if I take summer classes. 

And I decided that I'll take a copywriting job after all. Maybe it's selling out, but I understand now the sacrifices my parents made for us. I'm going to be responsible for a little baby, and I'll do what I have to for him or her. So I met with the ad agency recruiter and explained my situation. Well, not about the conception, but generally. He said the position they offered a couple months ago has been filled, but he could offer me part-time copywriting that I could do from home. I figure that will work while the baby is little. 

He also said they need a graphic artist, and if my boyfriend is as good as I say he is, they could offer him full time! So I threw together a portfolio of David's art that I have in my apartment, and I brought it in to show the recruiter the next day. He said they'd love to hire David. 

And I'm looking for a better apartment, something big enough for me, David, and the baby. By the time I go home to Lanford this weekend, I should have a lot set up. So it's not like I'll be telling David, "Hey, I'm in trouble."

I've been thinking about how I want to break it to him. And I've decided to tell him about the jobs first. I know he wanted to stay in Lanford and help with the baby, I mean Harris. Yeah, she's going to be an aunt, how weird. Anyway, she's over a year old now, and he's not obligated to stay, especially when his own child takes precedence. Yeah, he's going to be an awesome dad. I really wouldn't be able to do this without him. Well, I would if I had to, but he's so supportive.  


Anyway, jobs first, then apartment. Get him used to the idea of us living together, explain how it'll be different this time because we're both more mature and our relationship is stronger.  


Then, well, introduce the idea of marriage. Not propose exactly, because he'd think I was crazy if I got down on one knee and asked him to do me the honor. But just present it as the most logical step. If he's not ready for marriage, despite suggesting it out of desperation a couple years ago, then he's probably not ready for fatherhood, so I'll figure out how to raise the baby on my own.  


I still want to have it, even if David ends up not living with us. Jackie manages, although Fred does spend some time with Andy. Not that I'd break up with David, but we could still go steady or whatever you'd call it. 

He'll probably say yes. He loves me and he's always been ready for moving on to the various "next levels" before I have. Probably when I tell him about the baby, he'll be all set to be a father. Still, I don't want this to be like a shotgun wedding. I don't want him to feel like he has to marry me. I want him to want to marry me. So I'll tell him about the baby after he says yes and I won't mind how sentimental he'll get.

One thing I wasn't prepared for is the mixture of hope and happiness I feel. I expected to be scared and unsure, not like my life is full of possibilities. Maybe it's just hormones, but it's still amazing. So I believe that things will work out with David, and everything else.

However, that does not mean that I'm overly optimistic about my family's reaction. I picture Becky feeling a combination of jealousy that I got pregnant without even trying, even if she is planning to postpone kids till after med school, and disappointment that I got knocked up before I finished college.

I have no idea how D.J. will react, but he's sure to say the wrong thing. Harris is luckily too young to articulate her disapproval.

Jackie will probably be supportive. She's usually on my side, and it's not like she's going to judge me for an unwed pregnancy. Yeah, I'm a lot younger than she was, but David isn't just an acquaintance like Fred was. We've been together four years, if you don't count our break-ups, which I kind of don't. I now see them as phases that made us even closer.

Grandma will either disapprove, maybe seeing me as repeating her mistake, although David is nothing like Grandpa Al, or she'll start knitting months before her great-grandchild is born. Nana Mary will be loving and outrageous as always, and I really hope she lives long enough for her great-great-grandchild to get to know her.

Mark will probably say something clueless and/or insensitive, although David says that sometimes Mark can surprise you. God, he's going to be my double brother-in-law! If David says yes I mean. Mark will at least be my child's uncle on two sides, which I couldn't have predicted five and a half years ago.

The real question of course is how my parents are going to react. I picture Mom yelling at me for my carelessness and stupidity. She won't blame David, or not as much. But she'll accept it after she yells, and she'll want to help, I mean more than I need, and I'll have to make it clear that I'm an adult and I can take care of things. It's not like with Becky and Mark, where they had to move in. David and I can support ourselves and our baby in Chicago. There's no way I'm giving up on my dream of finally escaping Lanford. But we'll come home for holidays and let her spoil the baby of course.

The hardest reaction to think about is Dad's. I'm afraid he'll blame David, like when he found out that David had lived with me in Chicago. He'll think David seduced me, refused to wear a condom, and now has destroyed my brilliant future. And you know that's not what happened. Yeah, David was a very active participant in the conception, but I'm the one who chose the time and place for that encounter, and I'm the one that was careless about birth control. True, David could've said we should've waited till we could use a condom, but I sincerely doubt he was capable of hesitating at that moment. Not that my father needs to know all that. (My mother will make fun of me once she does the math and figures out it was on the Disney World trip, but I can't blame her. I'd do the same if this happened to someone else.)

My biggest fear is that Dad will give me the silent treatment, like he did to Becky after the elopement. I couldn't take that, especially now, when I need his acceptance more than ever.

It's weird to think that early on I insisted that David was nothing like Mark, that we were nothing like Mark and Becky. And we are, but four years ago I would've expected an unplanned pregnancy to happen to them someday, not us. I'm mostly glad it didn't happen when we were younger. We're still very young, technically still teenagers. But we can do this. And even though I've never been good with babies, except for sort of Harris, I can't wait to meet mine and David's.

Ugh, does this mean David was right when he said it's every woman's duty to have a baby? No, I don't think every woman feels this way about every pregnancy. And, despite all the responsibility, this feels more like an opportunity than an obligation. And it's not like I'm turning into a '50s housewife. I'm going to work outside the home. And I'll keep writing, but not crazy stuff like Mom's novel.

God, I hate to think what she'll do fictionally with my pregnancy! Probably give me quadruplets and name them after the Beatles. Well, I'm still telling her this weekend, after David.


	45. Practically

This is my last night as a single man. Mark offered to throw me a bachelor party, but I said no. I figured Darlene would object, but when she heard about it, she teased, "Are you sure? I think Becky can get you a discount at Bunz."

The only "typical guy" thing I enjoy is poker, so I had Mark throw me a poker party tonight. Since it was at the trailer, he allowed us each one guest. He himself chose Royal of course, and Leon obviously brought Scott. Mr. Conner narrowed it down to Mr. Mitchell. I don't really have any guy friends anymore, so I invited Dave Malone.

He dropped out a couple years ago, but he got a barista job at the only coffeehouse in Lanford. In fact, when I told him I was getting married, he said, "Yeah? Did you knock up the blonde?"

"Uh, no. She's married. Actually, she's my sister-in-law. And, um, I knocked up her sister."

"Oh, that Goth girl you dated back in high school? I didn't know you guys got back together."

Obviously we had a lot to catch on, but I didn't go into detail. He likes poker and he was free tonight, so he came over, and won.

They've all left now and Mark and Becky are asleep in the bedroom. I'm on the sofa, my feet under the dining table. It's not very comfortable, but I probably wouldn't get much sleep anyway. I'm too nervous and I have too much on my mind.

I kind of hoped Mr. Conner would stay behind and talk. At first, when he found out that I got Darlene pregnant, I thought he might slam me against a door, like when he found out she and I had lived together in Chicago. He didn't get violent or even threaten to, but he's been distant, not just to me but to Darlene. I wanted to break through that, but I guess that's too much to hope for yet. Darlene says he does come around eventually, so I'll try to be patient.

The other thing is I sort of hoped he'd give me a father-son talk. Not about sex, but general advice about being a husband. I've learned a lot from his example, but I wanted to hear words of wisdom. Clearly I can't turn to Mark for that.

It really bothers me that my own father, both my parents, won't be there tomorrow. I sent them invitations, but they both said they can't make it. My dad wouldn't even send Lisa and Nicki on their own when I asked. He said they're too little to travel, although Lisa is eleven now and I would've met her plane in Chicago. It's so strange to have a family for years and then one day it's over. I know, I was unhappy most of the time with them, and I'm better off with the Conners, but it still hurts.

And now I'm going to be related to the Conners by marriage, not just through Mark. After all this time of Mrs. Conner treating me like a son, I'm really going to be her son-in-law.

I was worried how she'd react when she heard about Darlene's pregnancy. Yeah, she likes me, loves me, but she's always pushed Darlene to pursue her dreams. OK, maybe not art school at first, but she came around. And after seeing Becky drop out and get married at 17, she can't have been thrilled to have Darlene choosing not only marriage but motherhood at 19. But she's been nothing but supportive about all of this.

Mark and Becky were both surprised when Darlene and I came over and told them. We had to do it quickly, before Mrs. Conner could. I was still reeling from the news myself, so Darlene did most of the talking. Mark's surprise was mostly due to me "being man enough" to impregnate a Conner girl, when he's never managed it.

"Beginner's luck," Darlene cracked, even though we weren't exactly beginners. Well, it was our first time without a condom.

Becky said, "I'm sorry, Darlene, but I can't picture you as a mother, or even a bride."

"Well, I plan to wear flannel and a bolo tie."

None of us, including Darlene, were sure how much she was kidding, but her grandmother later handed down her old wedding dress and Darlene has promised to wear it if none of us laugh and point. I think she'll be beautiful, but then I think she's beautiful in flannel.

"If this is what you want, I'm happy for you. And you have things more figured out than I did when I got married."

None of us disputed Becky, although I could see Darlene biting back a sarcastic remark. Then Becky leaned over and whispered something to Darlene, who whispered something back.

Becky said out loud, "Oh, well, no wonder."

I asked Darlene about that on the car ride home.

"Oh, she asked what position we used for conception, so I told her."

"Darlene!"

"I'm surprised you didn't see that when you were reading all those baby books when Mom was due with Harris. The doctor told me doggy style allows for really deep penetration. We got your swimmers real close to my cervix."

I'm sure I was blushing deeply, not to mention I was trying not to get an erection from remembering that really deep penetration. I just muttered, "I wasn't thinking very clearly that night."

She's about two and a half months along now. It's been almost a month since she told me. Yeah, she knew early on. It came as a complete surprise to me, even though I used to imagine it happening and wondering what we'd do. The reality is very different, not bad, but different.

When she came home that mid-May weekend, the first day was just full of surprises. She told me about getting us both jobs at the Chicago ad agency that offered her a $30,000/year position back in January. The job she's taken won't start till next January though. She's going to finish her degree in December, taking summer classes that will start after we come back from our honeymoon. (We're going camping.) My job will start around the time the summer quarter does. Yeah, no more Lanford CC for me, but then Becky is going to Northwestern this Fall, and I didn't really have any other friends on campus. Anyway, I was never that into school, even in my repeated senior year. I mean, I can succeed academically if I try, but I don't love school like Becky and Darlene do. And if I can make good money just on my talent, without a real education, then that's fine. Especially with a wife and baby to support.

I know, it's unreal. It's sort of sunk in after almost a month but you can imagine what a shock it was when I first heard.

Darlene led up to it. I should've been more suspicious that she was manipulating me, but I just thought we were having a great day together. She told me about the jobs and then said she found a great apartment for us to share, starting July 1st. I was surprised she wanted to live together again, but she said it would be different now, because I wouldn't just be sitting around the house. I'd have goals and I'd be making money.

The funny thing is, I did figure I'd move out of her parents' house by July at the latest. Her dad's been nudging me to move out for months, but I couldn't really find any place affordable on what I make at the World of Pizza. Yeah, I gave them my two weeks' notice after all of Darlene's news sunk in. Becky has promised to take me to the Mall so I can buy "corporate but creative" suits to be a graphic artist at an ad agency. I can't help thinking of how I almost took the job at Edelweiss Gardens, this amusement park an hour out of Lanford, where they give you room and board plus a salary, but I just couldn't see myself being a smiling conformist in a bunny costume. And the rides aren't as cool as the ones at Disney World. (I mean the park rides, not the ones Darlene and I gave each other.)

Anyway, Mrs. Conner has loaned us some money to get started on life in Chicago. She said, "Usually the bride's family has to shell out for a big wedding, but luckily my girls have such simple tastes." Darlene and I are having what her grandmother disapprovingly calls "a hippie wedding." No, it won't be in the nude and we won't be draped in flowers. But it'll be in a park and we'll recite our own vows. Underneath the snark and darkness, Darlene is sort of a nature girl, and she wanted to celebrate our love in the outdoors. "After all, we made a baby on a desert island," she couldn't help adding.

Mrs. Harris tried to take over the wedding planning. I understand, Mark and Becky eloped, and Mr. and Mrs. Conner's wedding wasn't fancy. And Jackie of course breast-fed at the wedding she held in the Conner living room. I think our wedding will be special but it has to be ours.

Darlene told me about the jobs and the apartment but held back the baby. She treated me to my choice of movie, and for once I didn't want something cheesy we could laugh at, like _Showgirls_. I picked _The Truth About Cats & Dogs_ and she agreed, although she did tease me about my Janeane Garofalo crush. (A sarcastic but vulnerable brunette, how could I resist?) She even let me use the armrest most of the movie. But I didn't suspect anything. I just thought she was trying to be nicer to me, like she promised in her letter to me last summer. Or maybe she was happy about us having a real future, outside of Lanford. How was I supposed to know she was softening me up to be a husband and father?

I don't mean to dismiss what she was going through. Obviously, she had had quite a week, finding out she was pregnant and deciding what to do about it. But I would've liked to have been in on that decision. The ultimate choice would be hers, but it felt weird for her to have already settled everything, and I was just supposed to decide whether to sign off on the contract. Maybe her working in an ad agency wasn't that far-fetched. And this wasn't just about her life, or the baby's life, but my life, too. And when the news came, I was just stunned and swept away.

We both enjoyed the movie, and I thought it was a perfect end to a perfect day. We came home and stood on the porch, admiring the sunset. I thanked her again for getting me such a great job. No, I don't feel like I'm selling out. It's more what I want to do than being a busboy and it pays a hell of a lot more. Besides, I can still do my own art on my own time. Nothing can make me stop drawing and painting. Yeah, I hope Mrs. Conner won't expect me to keep illustrating her book, once I move to Chicago. I don't think she's written much lately. Her mourning period over Jerry Garcia is over and real life has been very interesting so far this year. Yeah, by the end of '96 she'll be a grandmother! I can't believe it.

Back before I knew that, when the news about the job had sunk in some, I tried to think practically. I brought up whether we should split expenses when we live together again. After all, last time I wasn't making any money and this time I'll be making $25,000/year. (Darlene couldn't get me thirty thou, but it's still more than I ever expected to make before I hit twenty.) She was vague about her own job, just saying it would start in January, and she was going to try to graduate in December. I didn't know why she had the change of heart about taking the ad agency job, but I just figured the main thing was she wanted to finish college first, and she didn't mind graduating six months earlier than planned. I assumed hers would be full-time but it wouldn't start just yet and she'd still be living like a student, with ramen and brick bookcases and everything. Maybe I'd pay more than half, so we could live a little better, but still nothing luxurious, and then we could move up once she was pulling in her big salary.

I was thinking out loud about expenses, when Darlene said, "Or we could just get married."

I figured she was joking. I'd always assumed I'd propose, maybe when we were both done with school. I've known almost since the beginning that I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but there was no need to rush into marriage. And I've always been the more romantic and traditional one. I would never have expected her to suggest marriage. It would be more like sex was earlier, where I'd have to wait for her to get used to the idea. Except now that I think about it, when we did have sex, the timing was her decision.

And it's not like Darlene's proposal was romantic. She said nothing about love. Instead she talked about how practical it would be.

I still said yes. I love her and maybe it was time to get married. We're older than Becky was and it wouldn't be an elopement. Maybe we could be engaged while living together, and that might make her parents more accepting of shacking up, especially since this time we wouldn't be lying and sneaking around. Then we could have a Christmas wedding between her graduation and her new job starting. We'd both be twenty by then.

Still, I couldn't help wondering if she was just playing with me, given the Conner love of pranks. So I said now she'd tell me she was kidding. Instead she said now she'd tell me she was pregnant. I would've thought that part was a joke, but I could see she meant it. She's since told me that she wasn't trying to get pregnant, but she was careless with the Pill. I remember her telling me, back when we were virgins, that we should use condoms because she didn't think she could remember to take the Pill every day. But she went on it when she was with Jimmy, and I just figured she was more careful at eighteen than she might've been at sixteen. And seeing how practical she was being the night she proposed, who would've expected her to not be practical the night of the conception? Except I guess in her own way, she was just as swept away as I was.

She explained how she had everything worked out, how all these plans with jobs, apartments, and marriage would help with the baby instead. I felt incredibly overwhelmed, maybe more so because she wasn't. When I imagined getting her in trouble, as I did over the years, because accidents do happen, like with Fred and Jackie, I'd thought that I'd comfort her and promise to take care of her and the baby. But she didn't need comforting, and my taking care of them was taken for granted.

And I was going to be a father. I'd always wanted kids, especially with her, but not this soon. We'd get married when we finished school and then the kids would be a few years after that, whenever Darlene was ready. We'd travel to Europe first, maybe on our honeymoon. And we'd get a pet, probably a dog, first, so we could practice responsibility for another living being. Now she was telling me we were going to be responsible for our child in a few months.

Before I could process all this, she said we should go inside and tell her family. I wanted to wait, but I was so out of it that her mother guessed, although as a joke. Jackie was over and she seemed just as stunned as Mr. Conner. D.J. remarked on "babies having babies." It wasn't till later that I remembered babysitting him four years ago and he said I should date Darlene and someday have kids with weird hair. I think the baby will be beautiful, and I can't wait to meet him or her, but that night she told me, it all seemed to be happening so fast.

I later talked to Mrs. Conner a little about how Darlene's proposal felt more like business than romance. She must've said something to Darlene, because Darlene talked to me in the basement that evening.

"David, I just want you to know that if this had happened with Jimmy, I wouldn't have proposed to him."

"Would you have got an abortion?"

"I don't think so. I feel really special being pregnant, and maybe that's partly because I made a baby with someone I love, but I think I'd love the baby anyway."

"I didn't know you felt that way about being pregnant."

"Well, this isn't the kind of thing that's easy for me to talk about. But if I had felt this way with Jimmy's baby, I would've raised it on my own. And, yeah, it's practical to get married, but I want a family with you. You'll be a great dad, and a great husband."

"Well, thank you."

"We've gone through so much and you've always believed in me and thought I was wonderful, despite any evidence to the contrary."

I kissed her cheek. "Is this about you not wanting to be vulnerable again?"

"Yeah, partly. But also the baby makes me feel brave and optimistic."

"I wish there were paternal hormones. I'm the scared one."

"What are you scared of?"

"That we're making a mistake. That we, or at least I, can't handle this."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have proposed to me almost three years ago. Or talked me into sex."

"Yeah, or put my arm around you on the couch, when you didn't think of me that way."

"Or maybe this was my long-range plan when I first invited you over to work on the comic."

"I fell right into your trap."

"Uh huh."

She lay back on the bed and pulled me down into a kiss, her legs opening and wrapping around me. I was instantly hard. We necked and touched and gradually shed our clothes.

An hour later, when I'd come in her without a condom, this time knowing there was no chance I was getting her pregnant, she gasped, "Why, David Healy, now you'll have to marry me!"

"That's a slightly better proposal."

"I'll keep working on it."


	46. Detention

I first really noticed David Healy in detention. Not that I wasn't aware of him before that. I mean, Lanford is a small town and his brother was dating my sister. But I was going through a deep dark depression at the beginning of high school and I was only vaguely aware of the guy with the out-of-control hair and the hand-me-down leather jacket. It wasn't till I noticed the crazy things he drew that I was intrigued, but I probably wouldn't have talked to him if he hadn't come over to babysit my kid brother.

"Detention" comes from the word "detain." It can apply to imprisonment, but it's not necessarily a bad thing. It can mean your departure is delayed. There was a time when I would've hated to be detained in Lanford, but now I'm staying by choice. Well, not that I don't wish I hadn't had to make this choice, but I think it was the right one.

Tomorrow is the first anniversary. One year since David and I pledged to build a life together. One year since Dad's life ended.

I'm glad Dad and I talked things out before he went. I don't think he knew, but he did say life is too short to do all the things you want to do. I understand that a little now that I'm a mom. My baby isn't even six months old, but she's already grown and changed so much. Maybe someday, before I'm ready for it, I'll be at her wedding, trying to give sage advice.

We named her after Dad, sort of. Her first name is Mary, a little too fitting for a Christmas baby, but mostly it's a tribute to her great-great-grandmother. They look alike, but Jackie says all babies look like Nana Mary, or Winston Churchill. (Harris is a Churchill baby.). Mary's middle name is Danielle. I suppose we could've waited until I maybe have a son someday and name him Dan, but I wanted to honor Dad now.

Dad was, in his modest way, the most incredible father I've ever seen. Not perfect, but who is? He loved us and fought for us and cheered us on. And he made us laugh and made us think. I miss him terribly but I also feel like he still lives here and just stepped out for a bit.

David and I agreed we couldn't leave Mom, not yet. She fell apart when Dad died. But I couldn't put it as her needing us. I said I needed her help with the pregnancy and then the baby. Yeah, it means she's still running my life, but less than she used to. We're almost equals now. And I do need her, too.

Mark and Becky offered to stay in Lanford, but Mom encouraged her to pursue her dream of being a doctor, and Mark to go with her as emotional support. They still don't have the greatest marriage, but they love each other and they're working on things.

My marriage with David is good. We argue sometimes but nothing serious. He's been my rock the past year, well, before that really, but I mean dealing with the baby and Mom and everything.

D.J. has told me he's glad I'm here. He's grown up a lot, and kind of grown into his weirdness. He's got his first serious girlfriend and they're both into Film with a capital F. It reminds me of bonding with David over comics, when we were about their age.

David is no replacement as a father figure for D.J. and doesn't try to be. I feel bad for D.J., having no real role model now that Dad is gone. I mean, I love David dearly, but D.J. didn't even listen to him as a babysitter.

David is better with little kids, like Andy, Harris, and Mary. I know he wants us to have more someday, but I'm a lot more careful with birth control these days. I'm only 20 and I'm fine with waiting till I'm 30 for Little Danny.

Despite being exhausted from taking care of the babies, David and I still have a sex life, although it was weird at first because Mom gave us her bedroom. It was partly that she didn't want to sleep there without Dad, partly that she thought we should have our baby sleep in the same room, even though she was fine with Harris sleeping upstairs, and partly that she wanted to sleep in her writing room. (I'll get to that.)

I ended up nursing, which I'd never have imagined when I was younger, but it just feels right, nourishing my daughter from my body. David of course thinks it's beautiful, but then he said I was lovely all through the pregnancy. And, yes, he spoiled me, but I liked it.

So Mary sleeps in the master bedroom, for now. When I wean her (and, yes, it's weird for me to use words like wean), then we'll move her up to the nursery with Harris. If we're still here when D.J. leaves for college, then I guess the girls can have Becky's and my old room. I don't know. I don't want to think too much about the future. Things can change so suddenly.

David and I are both stay-at-home parents, with part-time jobs at the ad agency. We make enough to contribute to the household, and it still beats Buy & Bag and the World of Pizza. We work from home and send the completed assignments to the agency with a fax machine that Mom paid for, supposedly for the diner, something to do with tax returns. She still works full-time but keeps at her novel.

It started as a way to mourn Jerry Garcia, but Deadhead though she is, this is a much bigger loss. She and Dad were together since she was sixteen. They went through everything together. And now he's gone.

The novel has been through a lot of drafts. I don't mock it anymore. Mostly it's sad, but Jackie says it helps Mom cope, so I don't interfere, even when she makes David illustrate the latest chapter. He doesn't mind. He says he owes her so much.

In one draft, Dad didn't die. Before the paramedics showed up, D.J. used CPR. In real life, Dad collapsed during the reception, while I was waiting for our corny father-daughter dance. In Mom's version it happens on the dance floor and D.J. is the big hero, although Dad still has to spend time in the hospital.

Later Dad comes home and he and Mom have a big fight about him not taking better care of himself. They trash the living room and Mom stays at Jackie's for a few days. (David and I are off on our honeymoon. In real life we postponed the camping trip a couple months, until August, because we were too sad to go at first, but Mom insisted, and Jackie came over to keep Mom company.)

The way Mom wrote about the fight was intense. I guess she was in the anger stage of grief. But then that's where the book started to go crazy, in simultaneous but contradictory directions. In fact, I'm not entirely sure how many drafts there are and how they relate to each other. David isn't sure either and the poor guy has to draw all this.

Mom imagined herself and Dad into classic TV shows again, but I think these are supposed to be daydream sequences, like the chapter about _Jerry Springer_ and _Playboy._ The part about winning the lottery is supposed to be what really happens to the character based on her. And some of this is wish fulfillment, like travel and shopping and paying off the mortgage, but other stuff is crazy and/or sad.

Dad questions the meaning of life and then almost has an affair, as does Mom, but then they reconcile. Unfortunately, their daughter Darlene goes into premature labor (in February, mom's pregnancy math is again bizarre), and the baby almost dies but doesn't.

My labor was normal. Mary and I were and are healthy. I still cried reading about it. Mom can be a tearjerker when she wants to be. David was a wreck drawing that chapter, and I think it tapped into fears he'd had about me and our baby, even though real life isn't that bleak. The David in the novel was great, so sweet with Darlene, and trying to be strong for her. I'm glad Mom sees him that way. (Fictional Mark is more of a moron than real Mark, which is saying something.)

There are also chapters where I'm carrying Satan's child, Mom is fighting terrorists on a train, and Jackie is dating a prince.

In one version, Grandpa Ed is the one who dies, and Dad's affair is with Crystal, but even Mom admitted that was too much of a soap opera.

I guess it's progress that in the latest draft she's letting Dad die. However, she's changing the rest of the family all around. An earlier draft had Grandma accidentally outing herself at Thanksgiving. In this one, Jackie is now the lesbian. And Mom's got me with Mark, Becky with David. I guess she'll change the ages, too. I don't know if she'll go back and write of her depressed firstborn Darlene meeting bad boy Mark at fifteen, or if David will be the oldest Healy, and popular A-student Becky will fall for the shy artist.

"It's not that I don't think David is right for you," Mom explained to me. "It's just that might be the more interesting story."

I think our story is interesting enough. Maybe in twenty years we'll make a graphic novel about it. We'd start it now, but we're a little detained.


End file.
